WICKED U
by mcrshank
Summary: •College AU• After running into each other so many times at the same coffee shop, Thomas, Minho, and Teresa finally decide to hang out one day and soon become best friends. Weeks after, the gang finds some helpful tutors in Alby. Gally, and Newt. They all pass with flying colors and form a friendship that will last a lifetime. {Based on the TMR AU post by runnerstiles}
1. Chapter 1: Let's Be Alone Together

It was a day like any other; except Teresa had dropped her usual seat at the table closest to the door of the popular coffee shop for one of the decorated corner booths, her architecture books sprawled across half of the table and her favourite Mocha Late safely set on a place where she could reach it without accidentally making it fall on the display of books, papers and notebooks. Yet, her eyes weren't set on her unfinished coursework; they were on the clock at a further wall. 2:01pm. Any minute now.

For the past month the same routine had outlined her days: she'd wake up, go to her first two classes at NYIT (or "WICKED U" as mockingly called by the many students due to the infinite amounts of coursework the professors assigned them), and spent her one free period in the nearby Starbucks at around 2:00 pm. Usually at around that time the young Asian boy would arrive, sitting on a table near a plug so he could use his computer without worrying if his battery would die, and shortly after, at around 2:15, the other tired-looking familiar guy would arrive and sit down two tables from her on a corner of the coffee shop, exactly where Teresa was sitting at that very moment. That was basically it from Mondays to Fridays; and after a week of the same thing, all three of them started noticing one another. A greeting nod here, a wave there, a smile sometimes, and after three weeks even a worded hello or a _"WICKED is eating at your brain too?"_ when one of them seemed nearly tortured with the homework they were working on. But never once had they sat together, and after having gone through the same routine for a month, Teresa was determined to properly talk to at least one of the two boys.

The bell of the coffee shop rang in melodic tones, and Teresa's equally nervous and excited crystal hues fell on the opening door. Sure enough, the Asian boy was coming in with a _very _tired look and his Apple computer tightly held against his chest. As always, he didn't look around, he simply moved as if in automatic motions toward the line of awaiting clients to get his heavily caffeinated beverage; so Teresa waited. The pen in her hand clicked a couple of times as an excited breath left her lips in a shakey sigh and the dainty digits of her free hand reached over for her hilariously wrongly labeled cup of coffee. "Tahreesah" The girl had written; it'd been so funny Teresa had actually not been able to help laughing right in front of the girl. Something she regretted doing the moment it had happened, for the girl's features had coloured into a shade of red that made her look like she'd stopped breathing. But, really, who spelt Teresa wrong? If anything she'd expected it to say Theresa, since that was actually a more popular version of her name, but Tahreesah? That's just extreme.

Only a few moments had gone by with her waiting nerves when the young Asian boy moved away from the counter with his new cup of coffee and his balanced laptop on the other; his eyes searching for a free table where, as Teresa had many times observed, a plug could be found. "There's a plug right here!" Teresa called over, making the boy's eyes shift toward her. At first Teresa thought the young man would just nod in her direction like the few times he had done so in the past month and then walk away to do whatever it is he always did in that laptop of his, but only a few seconds of hesitation later he started walking toward the corner booth Teresa was sat in. "Hey." She said, her lips breaking into a smile that made a couple of little dimples adorn her cheeks while the young boy set down his things on the free space on the table with a smile of his own. "I thought we should finally introduce each other. I'm Teresa." She said, dropping her pen on top of her architecture notebook and extending said hand toward the Asian boy, who was sitting down by the time her hand was offered.

"Minho." He said, taking her hand and shaking it in a greeting for a couple of seconds before dropping it. "Nice to officially meet you."

"Officially." Teresa echoed and nodded, picking her pen back up from her notebook before lowering her eyes to follow Minho's actions as he ducked under the table to plug in his computer on the electric spot she'd promised was there. "You go to NYIT, right?" She asked, watching him as he sat straight once again and remembering the three times he'd teased her on the difficulty of her homework.

"You mean WICKED U?" Minho joked, making Teresa let out a short acknowledging laugh whilst she nodded once. "Unfortunately, yes." He continued smiling, pushing his laptop aside so he'd have space to set down the notebook he was retrieving from his backpack.

"Unfortunately." Teresa echoed once again before allowing a short laugh to leave her lips. "Definitely agreed."

The bell of the coffee shop sang again, but this time it wasn't even a minute later when the other familiar boy approached both Minho and Teresa in the corner booth; Teresa had chosen that very booth for the sole purpose of getting all three of them together, and clearly it had worked. "Um." The boy said, and Minho looked up at him with the same smile he'd offered Teresa. The boy's lips were lifted in a smile, a tired one at that - clearly tired was the recurring theme in the mood of students from NYIT -, but a friendly one nonetheless. "You guys are in my spot." He quickly teased, pointing at both Teresa and Minho a couple of times.

"Mmhmmm." Teresa said mentally high-fiving herself for literally choosing the perfect spot that would get the three regulars to sit together, the dimply smile refusing to disappear from her lips. "So why don't you just join us and sit?" She said, sliding over to the middle of the booth, picking up her Mocha Late with one hand before pushing her belongings to rest in front of her once she found herself comfortable.

"Fine." The new guy said with a pretence forced roll of his eyes as he set his backpack down and sat on the spot Teresa had been sitting at seconds before. "But only 'cause you guys stole my booth."

"Finders keepers, dude." Said Minho in a tone as equally friendly and carefree as the one the new guy had used, shrugging a shoulder and setting his notebook open on a blank page.

"You're hilarious." The new guy said, shaking his head and refusing to allow his tired smile to disappear.

Teresa, victorious, sat straighter and looked at the new guy before speaking. "I'm Teresa, this is Minho." She announced, motioning with her hand to the Asian smiling boy beside her. Minho and the new guy nodded at each other.

"I'm Thomas." He confided, extending his hand toward Minho first, who shook it, and then Teresa, who did the same, while he continued speaking. "Number one hater of WICKED U at your service."

Minho snorted, his hand falling in a quiet slap against his notebook. "I'm going to have to fight you on that, man. I think if anyone should have the title of hater of that damn school it should be me."

"No way." Thomas said, his head shaking once, one of his hands lifting with his index pointing upwards. "Trust me, the only reason I'm even still there is because I'm a year from finishing the career and I think having gone through three years of this hell to give up on the last year would be like running a marathon just to give up on the last mile: a.k.a. a waste of time."

"Agreed" Teresa and Minho said at the same time. "But I think it's safe to say we all hate the school equally." Teresa continued, shrugging a shoulder before reaching for her cup of coffee again, enjoying the pause as Thomas and Minho looked at her. "This is my fourth cup of the day and I still have two classes to go." Both guys winced in unison; once again, Teresa smiled victoriously.

That was the first day the three of them sat together; but after that day not one of them ever sat alone in that Starbucks again.

**To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2: Stained White Shirt

Teresa walked as slowly as she dared toward the little cafeteria in NYIT, the heels of her boots clicked against the hard polished stone of the school floor and her stylised curls bounced shortly against her back with each of her steps. Her first class of the day had just finished, and she had thirty minutes before her next class to get something to eat. She walked slowly because the classroom to her next class was only twenty steps and a turn away from the school cafeteria, and even though some lines for food were long, the line in the little cafeteria at the mockingly called "WICKED U" wasn't at all ever longer than four people.

A little beeping tone tooted from the confines of Teresa's bag, and with her steps continuing to push her forward, her eyes lowered in the direction of the sound while her hand lifted in search for the little electronic that had called for her attention. People walked past her, all looking forward, and, unlike her, paying attention to where they were all going. When Teresa finally found her phone, her lips cracked with the motion of a smile. Thomas, one of the two guys with whom she'd been spending her hour and a half long break every week day for the past two and a half weeks, had texted her saying that there was someone he thought her and Minho should meet; a guy who'd already taken the classes the three friends were taking at the moment. _Do you guys mind if he sits with us during break? _He'd texted in a group text to both Minho and Teresa.

_I don't mind at all, can't wait to meet your friend!_ Teresa was writing, but before she could press send, the force of a bodily collision knocked her from her feet, backwards and in a flailing mess of limbs and flying papers toward the ground she'd been walking on, with someone falling right on top of her. "Whoa!" Was all that Teresa could say a second before she hit the ground and felt a warm wet sensation travel from her chest to her stomach, sticky and absolutely uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" A male voice started three seconds after the collision. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, it's my fault. I'm really sorry." The new heavily accented voice was quickly saying as both the boy and Teresa started attempting to right themselves. Papers were scattered everywhere, and people walked past both of them on the ground, avoiding them as if they had some sort of plague; lest they forget they had fallen in the middle of a university hallway.

Teresa's eyes landed on the person who'd collided with her; a thin, yet muscular looking guy with short blonde hair and apologetic brown eyes was looking right at her as if she were a porcelain doll he'd just tripped over. Then her eyes fell on her shirt; the completely ruined shirt that had once been fully white was now mostly covered by the brown stain of coffee, which, she guessed by the lack of _burning _pain, had not been a fresh cup. "It's okay, it's okay." She said, lifting her hands toward the guy whose words had finally stopped flowing. In fact, for the past few seconds he only had a frown crossing his forehead as if he'd been waiting for her to say something.

"I'm made a bloody mess of your shirt, I am _really _sorry." The blonde boy said, making Teresa's lips break into a brand new smile and a short scoffed breath leave her lips.

"At least it wasn't my favourite one." She heard herself say, feeling pretty silly two seconds after she'd said it, which made the boy kneeling close to her crack a smile. Both, Teresa and the blonde guy with the accent, started moving to pick up their stuff from the mess of books and papers that surrounded them; a few of them splattered by the brown warm liquid that now adorned the once spotless floor. "Ah, crap." She said, noticing her homework stained as heavily as her unimportant shirt.

"Shit. I'm so sorry, really. I should have looked at where I was going." The blonde guy started again, holding his wrinkled papers against his chest and standing up, not missing a beat before he offered Teresa a hand.

"It's okay." She repeated, gathering as many of her ruined pieces of homework as she could, shaking them to rid them from as much of the brown liquid as she could, along with her phone (that had thankfully not been touched by even a single drop of coffee) before smiling up toward the blonde brown eyed boy and taking his offered hand; suddenly feeling thankful she'd changed her mind last minute from wearing her favourite white sundress to put on some black ripped jeans and the first shirt her hands landed on. At least the sundress was safe unstained at home.

Apologetic, the blonde boy's eyes remained on Teresa, his hand staying on hers as she stood straight with his help. "If it makes you feel any better my History Of Architecture text book suffered the same fate as your shirt." He announced with that clearly foreign accent specially adorning some of his words while he finally letting go of her hand. "I'm going to have to pay the bloody fine for it." He joked, chuckling at his own misfortune.

Maybe Teresa shouldn't have joined him in the little laughter, but she had. It'd clearly been an attempt at a different form of apology, and Teresa couldn't really blame it all on him. "Look, uh..." Whatever words she had planned on speaking cut off in a questioning rise of tone toward the blonde boy before her as she wondered what she could call him.

"Oh, Newt." He confided, smiling shortly and lifting his hand toward Teresa one more time, who retaliated the smile and shook his hand in a formal greeting before she decided to speak again.

"Teresa," She informed him, forcing herself to keep the smile across her lips and dropping his hand after their firm shake; the truth was that she wasn't at all excited about having to copy everything onto clean sheets of paper later on the day, curse her love for hand writing every paper she had to hand in. "Look, Newt, clearly you and I have learnt that we need to pay attention to where we're walking." Teresa admitted. "I'd be angry, but I wasn't really paying attention in front of me either." Her eyes fell at her wet shirt, the saved phone in her hand and her ruined papers. "Crap."

"I shouldn't have been running." Newt calmly admitted, his eyes following Teresa's to the true mess that his coffee had made, then falling on his own book, which was still dripping little brown droplets onto the ground. "Hm." He said shortly, making Teresa look up at him again before he tiled his head in a little motion with narrowing eyes in a way that made Teresa wonder what the blonde guy was thinking, and tilt her head in a mirror of his own actions. "Alright, I know how weird this is going to sound, and I assure you that it's not what you think, I only want to make this right." Newt finally spoke, righting his stance and lifting the hand that had been offered to Teresa before in attempt to right his own messy papers.

"O...kay?" Teresa voiced, her eyes narrowing and her smile wavering slightly into a curious grin, holding her wet papers with the index and thumb of the hand that had been holding onto her phone all this time.

"When's your next class?" Newt wondered out loud, searching into the sparkling blue of Teresa's hues as if he were to find the answer there.

"Well," She paused, looking toward her phone and lifting her free hand so one of her dainty digits could press a button for the screen to light up. "Now." Teresa announced, lifting her eyes toward Newt's browns once more. "But, you see, this here," she shook the papers held by her fingers, "is my homework for that class, and I don't think Professor Paige would be too happy about it being covered in coffee, so I think _maybe _I should skip the class. For today."

"Wait, you were going to Foundation 4?" Newt questioned after recognising the name of the teacher whose class he was supposed to be attending at that very moment, his brow wrinkling as his tone bled with curiosity. Teresa nodded. "How do I not know you? I've been taking that class for nearly two months."

"Really?" Teresa's head ticked back in surprise and the curious grin morphed into one of wonder. "Well, there are nearly sixty students in that class, I'd be impressed if anyone knew everyone in there."

"Fair enough." Newt allowed. "Well, I'm not planning to return either. Not after I brought you so much trouble." Teresa smiled. "So why don't we go to my dorm? It's a block from here and you can dry your papers and borrow one of my shirts. I wouldn't want you to have to walk around for the rest of the day with that stain on yours." He said, motioning with a flick of his eyes and a movement of his book and papers toward the now mostly brown shirt that Teresa was wearing. As expected, though, Teresa stood in a doubting stance that brought nothing but a quiet and _clear_ hesitation toward the offer. "Please." Newt encouraged. "It's the least I can do."

Once again, Teresa stared at Newt as if the wheels were turning inside her mind. Which was a very accurate description of what was happening. "You could be a serial killer." She decided to voice one of her many thoughts. Newt couldn't help but laugh; a motion that made Teresa have to smile at how paranoid she sounded. "Well, you could be." She repeated. "Some guy who deliberately ran into women to get them to go to his room so he could rape-kill them or something horrible like that."

"I can assure you I'm no such thing." Newt's eyes rolled in form of playful acknowledgment toward the brunette girl.

"Which is exactly what a serial killer would say." The stylised curls on Teresa's head shook along with her nodding head, and this time her smile conveyed something more than plain curiosity.

"Fair enough." Newt allowed once again, shaking his head as his shoulders danced along with his short wave of laugher. "Well, would a serial killer encourage you to keep your phone close?" He inquired, refusing to take his eyes from the intense blue of hers. She didn't speak, and he quickly took advantage of it. "I've read enough mystery books to know that the last thing a serial killer wants is to have people know that his victim is with him. _So, _how about you text or call a friend, tell them you're with me."

Teresa's eyes narrowed, and a slow pondering breath left her sideways twisted lips; then they fell to the phone that had just vibrated with a brand new text from Thomas. "My own apartment _is _ten bus stops away from here..." She voiced without completely meaning to.

"There you go." Newt quickly took the opportunity to say. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your day with a stained white shirt on?"

Teresa's bright blue hues shadowed with a narrow of her lids that made a curious grimace twist her features toward the blonde boy. The seconds ticked by, cautions, possibilities and realistic situations crossed her mind a mile per second; and after a couple of blinks of her lids and a slow exhale of a held breath, Teresa's head shook in reply to Newt's last inquiry. "Alright." She said, making the brown eyed boy in front of her finally smile again. "I'll go." And without another word, her digits moved swiftly on her phone to finally complete the text she hadn't been successful in sending her recently made friend. Not deleting what she'd previously typed, but adding to it with the information her new acquaintance had suggested. Smiling.

_I don't mind at all, can't wait to meet your friend, Tom! I might bring one of my own, I'm stopping by his dorm a block away from campus. He spilt his coffee on me. We just met. _

**To Be Continued.**


	3. Chapter 3: A Friend In Common

Newt's brown hues scanned the view of New York he could see from his dorm room balcony, his arms resting on the rail that created the barrier between him and the obvious fall that would follow if it weren't there. It was a place where he liked to think, wait, relax; even though it held the memory of the one event only one person in his life knew about apart from Newt himself.

It'd been a year back during spring; one much like the one that reigned the streets of New York now, and Newt's life had been falling apart. His school grades had been incredibly low, he'd been in Academic Probation, his father -the only proper teacher and idol he ever really had throughout all of his life- had died only a month before that day, he owed a month of payment to his school, his only friend's time seemed consumed by the same classes he'd taken the year prior, enough for Newt to not want to bother him with his own problems, making him feel as if he was alone in the world for nothing but his own fault, and the heavy illness that darkened his every thought made the weight of all these problems seem like much more that he could actually bear.

The day of the incident had started like any other; Newt'd forced himself out of bed, showered, ate an apple and left for his classes. But what made that day different had been the outcome of the test he'd taken a week prior: he'd failed again, and it had felt as if that was the last straw. Newt could still remember it as if it had been yesterday; bursting into his dorm room with his eyes stinging red from all the tears he'd forced to not spill, his hands throwing his brown leather shoulder bag to whatever corner of the little living room it decided to fall on and slamming the door behind him, finally letting all the tears fall with the weight of everything that pulled him under and begging himself to go toward the balcony that he loved spending time on so that the polluted air of New York city would calm his every thought possible. Only, that day, it had done the very opposite.

It started looking like an option; a way to free himself from every little problem that weighted on his mind, a solution. And with no reasoning thought to help his darkened mind he'd climbed the balcony until his feet balanced on the dark railing with tear stained cheeks, bloodshot eyes and parted lips begging for one last breath of heavy air. Heavy, it was all heavy; too heavy on him, on his heart, on his mind, on everything that made him who he was. And he was tired of fighting for lost causes... so he jumped.

What he hadn't known that day, was that his younger friend, Minho, had heard, via Newt's mum, that things hadn't been all that great for him. Minho had known Newt since childhood; they'd gone to the same pre-school, same elementary, same high school, they'd gone from sharing toys to taking about any girl that crossed the other's eye and falling in love with the same profession that would lead them both to studying in the same university. Of course, one year behind the other in every school, but that never seemed to stop the friends from being there for each other for everything.

It was exactly why the day of the incident had been Minho's worst nightmare. All he could remember, to this day, was opening the door to Newt's dorm room with the key he'd given him, and seeing his best friend's form disappear onto the streets below from the balcony. _"Newt!" _He'd yelled, but it'd been only a scared calling, for the blonde boy had gone past the point of no return seconds before Minho had opened the door. If only he hadn't stopped for coffee for him and his friend maybe he'd have made it in time to talk him out of it; it was a weight he felt he would carry with him for the rest of his life, and he was glad his friend had survived thanks to the immediate call he'd made to 911.

But, of course, Newt had only known about this months later while talking to his angry friend. All he could remember after the jump were lights flying around him and a sense of freedom he'd never truly felt before and the horrible throbbing pain throughout all of his body, his leg, _oh, god, his leg, _that made him almost feel numb once he made contact with the hard asphalt of the street, seeing flashes of light against his eyes as if many people were taking flash pictures at the same time, before everything went black.

He'd woken up two weeks and a half later with a horrible pain in his head, scratches on his arms, and the promise that he would walk again regardless of if he'd broken more bones that could be successfully fixed. The reminder of that day had been the limp that accompanied every step he took from that moment forward.

A limp of which his newly acquainted female friend had asked out loud on their way to his dorm room after their literal run into each other and his staining of her shirt, homework and his own book. Accidentally, he guessed, since the look she'd given him after asking the question had been a horrified one, with those sparkling blue eyes widening in horror and her one free hand lifting to cover her mouth while saying _"Oh, god. I'm so sorry, how rude of me. You don't have to answer that, I'm an idiot, I'm sorry." _

Something that had made Newt smile, shake his head, hold his own papers and book a little tighter and comfort his new friend with truth-filled words. "_Don't apologise. You're the first person to ask out right. Everyone else just looks at me or my leg and has this bloody look full of pity for a second before looking away." _Of course, after that he'd made up some story about injuring himself during a motorcycle incident.

But then having to wait for her to get changed into one of his smaller shirts had had him thinking of the true story behind the little reminder his leg continued being. In fact, he'd been so lost inside that memory that he hadn't even realised how long it'd taken for Teresa to get changed until her voice reached him from his bathroom in the little flat his dorm room was. "Are you _sure _this is your smallest shirt?"

Newt's head, with his mind brought back with a pop back to the present, shifted to attempt to look inside his little flat in search for his new acquaintance, but then he stood straight and shifted his whole body so he could walk inside and close the big glass window behind him. "I'm sure. Is it too small?" He called, his eyes falling on the door that led to his bathroom and the brunette girl he'd run into earlier that day.

"Um..." He heard, followed by a couple of silent seconds before the door to the bathroom clicked open and out came Teresa, with her black ripped jeans, black heeled boots and an _extremely _oversized black shirt with the words "STAR WARS" written in yellow across the chest.

Newt's eyes widened momentarily before one of his hands lifted to press a fisted hand against his lips so he could attempt to hide the smile that threatened to reign over them at the sight of the petite girl in the oversized clothing, the other crossed against the top of his stomach to support the elbow of the first mentioned. "Wow." He said; whatever thought had been haunting him prior to this evaporated in the moment. The truth was that Newt knew he was tall; but it had never occurred to him that he was _that_ tall.

"Newt!" Teresa's tone rose with lack of amusement in an attempt to make the blonde boy stop smiling like he'd just seen the most amusing thing in the world. Her eyes suddenly darkening with the shadow of a small frown as her head tilted and arms crossed against her chest, and the smallest of smiles adorned her lips regardless, looking, in Newt's opinion, even smaller. "Don't you dare laugh."

It'd been as if she'd told him to laugh, for a short quickly-stopped wave of laughter left his lips. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He said, lifting his hands in front of him as if he were scared Teresa would hurt him somehow.

"It's not funny!" She said, but her lips betrayed her words; she was smiling in reaction to her new friend's laughter; it was impossible not to. "I look ridiculous!"

That only made Newt break into laughter once again. "No! You don't." He attempted to reassure her when that look that could probably pierce a hole right through him reached him once again. "You look so... tiny." He admitted; though what he had actually wanted to say was that she looked... well, c_ute_. But he couldn't say that now, could he?

"Newt!" Teresa scolded once again; this time stomping a foot and lowering her arms to her sides with fisted hands in such a way that made Newt shake his head with accompanied laughter once again.

"I'm sorry!" He said. Lifting a hand as if to wipe invisible tears brought on by his very much welcomed laughter. "Come on, stand by the table," He finally requested once his laughter had subsided, his smile remaining. "I have an idea."

With a shake of her head, a roll of her eyes and a curious smile, Teresa complied to what she was asked to do and crossed her arms once again before she leaned against the one round table in the room; her big blue eyes following Newt around as he moved toward a dresser near the door and opened some drawers in search of something that, when he closed the drawer and turned to walk toward her again, she realised were scissors. "What are you doing?" Teresa wondered out loud, watching Newt as he pulled one of the five chairs resting around the table so he could sit right before her.

"Making it look 'not ridiculous'." He announced with his accent emphasising the words where the quotes became clearly audible on his speech. Without another word he reached toward the hem of the big black shirt and led the scissors toward it.

"What? No, wait!" Teresa said with wide eyes and a little jump back that made the hem of the shirt slip away from Newt's grasp and his scissors. "What are you doing?!" She repeated.

"I'm going to cut it." Newt calmly informed her, his brown eyes searching hers as if he wondered if what he'd said didn't fall clear on Teresa's mind.

"What? But it's your shirt!" She voiced worriedly with a little frown wrinkling her forehead, dropping her hands to her sides to pinch the shirt and stretch it while she looked down at the words printed in yellow across her chest as if she were motioning to it for him.

"I know, but I have another one just like it." Newt admitted, lowering his hands to rest on his knees. "Plus." He added, "It'll look better on you, anyway." His eyes communicated just what his words did: that it was okay, he wanted her to keep the shirt if it meant making up for spilling all his coffee on her, to _please _let him do this.

Teresa's eyes narrowed for a moment, her lips twisting to the side and her lungs holding a breath that she only set free the moment she nodded and walked back the step that would allow Newt to do what he wanted with the shirt. "As long as you're sure."

"I am." Newt nodded, lifting his hands again to reach for the hem of the shirt and lift the scissors toward it once again. "Lift your arms?" He requested while motioning with the hand without the scissors for Teresa to turn her stance so Newt was at her left instead of in front of her, and when she did as he requested, Newt finally started cutting onto the shirt. Making a straight line cut from the very hem of the shirt until he was able to see the skin of her stomach and maybe three or four inches higher. The sight of the exposed skin felt like an intrusion, one that made Newt's eyes flick up toward Teresa's, that were already looking at him and his hands, for a second, before he cleared his throat and shifted the scissors in his hands to face to the side outwards from him the three or four inches lower from the cut he'd made, enough so he would cut the shirt at hip level. "Start turning around?" He asked, his voice rising in pitch with question as he allowed his eyes to flick toward Teresa's again. "Slowly, please?."

She didn't know if it was evident, but Teresa felt a little blushed all of a sudden, something she thought able to hide with a nod and a compliance of the actions her new friend was requesting of her. She kept her arms raised at her sides as she took slow steps in a 360* motion, all while listening to the soft noises the scissors made with each cut the blonde haired boy made to what had turned into her new shirt. It smelled like him; something she had realised when she'd first put it on. Not that she knew exactly what _he _smelled like, but it had the same masculine fragrance that his house did; coffee, mixed with mint, vanilla and something else. An aroma she'd never smelled before, one that she identified as _Newt _from then on.

Newt was good at many things and one of them was precision; after all, it was something that he was bound to have with the profession in architecture he'd chosen. And the cuts on the shirt had shown that clearly, by the time he was done the shirt actually ended up looking feminine against Teresa's frame. He'd even left two fringes longer than the rest of the shirt to her side that he knotted together to make the extra inches he'd accidentally cut up her stomach as something he'd actually planned on doing. "There." He announced, quickly setting the scissors on the table beside him and setting his hands on his knees before standing with a proud little smile crossing his lips.

"Wow." Teresa said, brows lifting in surprise and an equally thankful and surprised smile lifting the corners of her lips. "Thank you." Her arms lowered as her eyes studied the cuts Newt had made.

"There's a full length mirror in the back of the closet if you want to make sure I didn't make you look ridiculous." He motioned with a hand toward his closet, smiling snarkly before taking the scissors to put them back in the drawer he'd found them in.

Teresa nodded, and it only took her a few moments to walk over to the door of his closet and check in a full-length perspective the details of what her newly acquainted friend had done. "Huh." If anything, she was impressed, surprised and completely thankful when she spoke her next words. "Maybe you should have gone into fashion instead of architecture."

A short scoffed breath left Newt's lips and an even prouder smile crossed his features, his head shaking from side to side before he dared speak. "I don't think so."

Teresa's lips emitted the shortest and quietest version of an amused laugh they could master before he eyes searched for Newt, who was reaching for his leather shoulder bag so he could perch it on a coat hanger near the door. A couple of inches above his head rested a clock, and she realised then how late it was and that if she didn't start heading toward the little Starbucks soon she'd be late to her daily meeting with Minho, Thomas, and whoever this mystery guest of Thomas' was; when her eyes fell on Newt again, an idea quickly formed. "Do you have any classes right now?" She wondered, closing the closet door and heading toward the bathroom, where she'd left her stained shirt.

"No, my next class is until six," Newt quickly replied, looking in the direction Teresa had disappeared. "Why?"

"Um..." An echo of what he'd heard moments before made a little smile lift his lips, seconds later Teresa came out of the washroom with her own bag, hard-dry papers and her stained white shirt. "I have coffee with some friends every day in the coffee shop in front of the school." She announced, placing her ruined papers inside her bag. "I wondered if maybe you wanted to join us; one of them is the one I texted that I was coming here with you." She smiled as if those words alone were an inside joke between Newt and herself.

Which Newt recognised as the thing he'd told her to do to make sure he wasn't a serial killer, and had him smiling shortly as well. "No, wait." He said, taking a step forward once he realised Teresa was placing the stained shirt inside her bag. Clearly, by the little disappointed look that crossed her eyes, she'd thought Newt was saying no to her invitation, something that he quickly corrected. "No, I mean, yes, I'd love to join you and your friends for coffee," he smiled, making the blue eyed girl retaliate with her own relieved smile before starting to place her shirt back inside her bag; an action Newt quickly stopped by taking the few steps left that separated them and detaining the hand that was pushing the fabric inside her bag with one of his own, making a wide eyed Teresa look up at him. "Don't take your shirt. Let me wash it; trust me, it'll be as good as new when I give it back."

For the third time since she met him, Teresa narrowed her eyes at Newt. An action he didn't miss, and only made his own lips lift in a reassuring grin before the words in his mind left his parted lips. "Please." He nodded. "It's the least I can do for ruining your shirt _and _your homework."

A scoffed breath left Teresa's smiling lips before her eyes rolled and her head bobbed in a nod. "Alright, fine." She said, turning her hand in Newt's to let him take the fabric and retrieve it, and slipping her digits from his then. "But let's go, my friends will be waiting." She urged, refusing to let the smile disappear while she searched for her phone.

"Are you sure they'll be okay with me joining you?" Newt wondered out loud, taking Teresa's stained shirt to the basket inside the closet where he set all his dirty laundry.

"Of course." Teresa's eyes were set on the phone in her hands as she typed a quick message to both Minho and Thomas to let them know that she was on her way, and with company. "You're my friend now." She admitted with a little teasing smile and her sparkling blue eyes finally meeting his browns once her message was sent and her phone was safely tucked inside her bag. "I mean, you spilt coffee on me, you gave me one of your shirts, you're requesting to do my laundry and you go to one of my classes. I think this is a serious friendship already."

Newt nodded, a sideways smile and a roll of his eyes successfully allowing him to ignore Teresa's sardonic tone while he reached for the bag he'd just perched on the coat hanger so he could take it with him again. "Fine. Let's go, then." The smile that crossed his lips was genuine.

He never felt alone and hopeless again.

**To Be Continued.**


	4. Chapter 4: Made Up Language

The bell of the coffee shop rang with melodic tones that made Thomas and Minho look up from their conversation in the corner booth; their eyes lighting up with relief and their lips lifting in smiles the moment they recognised the girl crossing the threshold. She was looking back, talking to a tall blonde haired boy that was smiling and rolling his eyes by the time the door had closed behind him. "Teresa!" Thomas called, lifting a hand and waving it in the girl's direction the moment she turned around to look at him with a smile to mirror his.

"Hi, Tom." She said the moment she reached the little booth, her hands set on her bag. "Minho." Her head bobbed in greeting toward the Asian boy in front of Thomas, but then she looked toward the blonde boy beside her. "This is-" But she hadn't been able to finish her words; by the time she was attempting to introduce him, Minho had stood from the booth and hugged the tall blonde boy that had been standing beside her.

"Newt." Minho said, slapping the guy's back a couple of times before pulling away; holding him at arm's distance as if he hadn't seen him in a while, which was exactly the case.

"You know each other." Teresa stated, looking from Minho to Newt as she sat on the space Thomas had been sitting on seconds before he slid further into the booth to give her a space to sit without having to get up.

"Yeah." Newt admitted, lowering his hand, which had been patting against Minho's shoulder, to look at Teresa. "I've known this shuck-face since childhood."

"Shuck-face?" Teresa and Thomas both said in questioning unison; their heads comically ticking back with curiosity at the exact same time. Sometimes it truly was like they were connected somehow.

Minho snorted, sitting back down on the booth and sliding further in until he was sitting beside Thomas, Newt following close beside him. "It's what we call each other sometimes." He confided, setting his bag down at his feet. "We sort of had to come up with a word, since once Minho called me 'fuck face' and his mum nearly slapped the life out of him."

"Yeah, and when you said I was full of shit _your _mom took your guitar away. You had it easy." Minho joked, rolling his eyes and reaching for his cup of coffee.

"Uh-uh." Newt nodded, smiling and looking toward Teresa and Thomas again. "So we came up with our own words for some stuff that could get us in trouble, that way we could cuss at each other even in school or in front of our mums."

Teresa and Thomas had been paying curious attention throughout their explanation, but once it was over, Thomas' lips allowed a scoffed breath to escape them. "You're fucking brilliant, did you know that?" He said, lifting a finger to point toward the two friends before him.

"Don't tell him that, or it'll get to his head." Minho said, setting his coffee down and shaking his head from side to side, making Newt's eyes roll once again. "Seriously, he already thinks he's some genius just because his mom named him after her favourite scientist."

"There's a scientist named Newt?" Teresa curiously questioned as she set both her hands on the table.

"Of course." Newt's eyes truly looked surprised at having even heard that question, his lips lifting in a warm smile.

"Oh, here we go." Minho pretended to sigh, sitting back and crossing his arms against his chest as if he were about to hear the same story for the millionth time; which, again, was probably exactly the case.

Newt ignored him. "He's the very reason you know there's gravity. Only his close friends called him Newt, probably. To everyone else he was..."

"Isaac Newton." Minho chanted at the same time Newt spoke the words, making the blonde boy's eyes roll again, but the smile that invaded his lips didn't come close to disappearing. "He loves saying that to anyone who asks."

Theresa laughed shortly; her legs crossing as she got comfortable on her seat. "Well, I like it." She admitted, making Newt look at her. "It's unique, I think. You're the first Newt I ever meet." Both Teresa and Newt shared a smile; something that not Minho nor Thomas missed. They shared a look with risen brows.

"I'm Thomas, by the way." The shaggy haired boy beside Teresa spoke, making the eye contact between the two break as he offered a polite hand to Newt, who quickly lifted his to shake Thomas' in greeting.

"Oh, like Edison?" Newt wondered before letting go of his hand.

"No, like Tom Wilkinson." Thomas admitted, lowering his hand solely to reach for his coffee and lead it to his lips, taking a sip before continuing his words. "He's my mom's favourite actor. _But, _I like your idea better. I'm using that from now on, it'll make me look smart."

"That's as far as you're going to get, Thomas." Minho joked. "_Looking _smart." Teresa and Newt laughed, making Minho's smile become victorious while nodding toward Thomas.

"You're hilarious." His snarky tone was cut off by the greetings of two young men carrying cups of coffee; a tall dark skinned guy and a slightly taller green eyed young man that was setting down a tray of four different sized cups of coffee. "Oh, hey! Teresa, Minho already met them, but these are the guys I told you about. Or, well, one of them. The other one's his friend, and, anyway, these are Alby and Gally, they're a year ahead of us so they've already been through most of our classes."

Teresa smiled, lifting her hand toward both guys and introducing herself with interested demeanour. "Nice to meet you." She smiled as the two guys sat on the empty space beside Newt, who, of course, soon later introduced himself.

"These are for you," Alby announced once the greetings were over, handing Teresa and Newt a cup of coffee from the tray Gally had set down in the middle of the table. "Mocha Late for the lady, and Thomas didn't know what you would want, but since he knew you were coming he told us to get you a plain coffee." He informed Newt.

Thomas nodded proudly before crossing his arms on the table in front of him. "Thank you." Teresa said, smiling at Thomas and nodding towards Gally and Alby, taking the cup of coffee that had been set before her and lifting it so she could take a sip of the familiar warm liquid.

"Thank you." Newt echoed, mirroring Teresa's actions without truly realising it.

"What Thomas forgot to tell you is that we're retaking a couple of classes from our last semester; classes you kids are taking right now." Gally mentioned as he lifted his own cup of coffee from the tray in the middle.

"Kids?" Thomas snorted, Minho joined him and shook his head. "Might I remind you that you guys are only a year above us?" He said, pointing at Newt as well as Gally and Alby. "Meaning some of us" This time he motioned to Teresa, Minho and himself, "are only a year younger than you or even the same age but unfortunate to have been born after August?"

"You are kids the moment you need to defend yourselves." Alby teased, reaching for the croissant he'd just set in front of him, and gave it a bite. "And the moment you're studying in a year below us." He finished, smiling and speaking in between a mouthful of bread.

"No, _you_ are just old." Thomas nodded, sitting back and making Teresa snicker beside him while she attempted to drink from her cup. "And full of sh-" Thomas had been about to cuss at the dark skinned boy, but unfortunately his eyes fell from him to the old guy that had loudly cleared his throat and was so judgingly staring at him from over Alby's shoulder. Thomas nearly sighed in frustration as he narrowed his eyes at the old man, but instead, his hand fell back on the table and he turned to look at Newt, who was taking a sip from his cup of coffee. "What's the word you and Minho used for shit when you were younger?" He whispered.

"Mm." Newt grimaced, attempting to gulp his coffee before replying. "Klunk." He informed, throwing Minho, who solely held back a wave of laughter, a look.

"Right," Thomas said in a normal tone again, looking at Alby. "You're full of klunk." Smiling victoriously at Alby's replying eye roll, Thomas turned to look at Newt one more time. "Thanks, man. I might steal that and use it on my teachers."

"Oh, feel free to. I still use it nowadays." He admitted, setting down his coffee and sitting a little straighter on his seat as if he were proud of the fact.

"Same." Minho followed with a grin. "It's easy to remember, really. We were children when we came up with it so it's not a great science."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Gally questioned, resting his back on the cushiony backseat of the booth and staring curiously at Thomas, Minho, Teresa, who just shrugged and shook her head, and Newt who had started playing with the carton cup holder that stopped him from getting burnt.

"This language for cuss words and stuff that Minho and Newt came up with to not get in trouble when they were kids." Thomas replied before anyone could.

"Yeah, it's easy. Klunk is for shit," Minho informed.

"Shuck is for fuck and its branches," Newt nodded, continuing Minho's thought.

"Slim it is for shut up." The Asian friend shrugged, looking at Newt beside him and the other four people sitting around the table as if he were some great teacher. "Easy."

"Easy." Teresa echoed, shrugging a shoulder and smiling sardonically in mock mirror to Minho while lifting her cup of coffee to drink from it once again.

"Great." Alby quickly cut in, splitting a piece of his croissant to lead to his mouth. "I can't wait to tell Professor Janson to go eat klunk."

"Or to go shuck himself?" Gally continued on Alby's game and both of them broke into snickers. Something that soon after Newt joined in on.

Seconds later, each one of the newly made friends around the table started to voice ideas on how to use the words Minho and Newt had just taught them, whether they mean to or not, to offend their teachers in one way or another, making the hour and a half of break appear to go by faster than usual, and without them realising it, making a quick bond form between each of the six friends.

A bond that would continue existing for the rest of their lives.

**To Be Continued. **


	5. Chapter 5: I Will If You Will

"I don't understand." Thomas said, his pen dropping on top of the table on the familiar corner booth in the coffee shop, making his friends, Teresa, Newt, Alby, Gally and Minho, all look up from their own notebooks; his chocolate hues shining apologetic the moment he realised he'd broken the group's entire concentration.

"What don't you get?" Newt asked, taking this moment to reach for the cup of coffee that gave him a short jolt of life whenever he needed it.

It'd been a few weeks since they'd all met; since then the relationship between all six friends had shifted into the sort of bond one could possibly only expect to find in a relationship as old as Newt and Minho's. A bond in which every one of them always knew where the other was, in which they all knew most of things the other liked, and one in which the silences between each other as they sat together with each of their minds buried deep into their own work were never uncomfortable. Teresa and Newt sat together in the two classes they discovered they had together, as well as side by side each day in the coffee shop like they were at this very moment; Thomas and Minho had been closer than ever before, walking home together almost every day (they discovered they lived in the same dorm) or even arriving at the coffee shop together, much like Alby and Gally. Sometimes all six friends decided to hang around one of the dorm rooms, or in Teresa's case, her little apartment away from campus; others, they would all go to a movie, or a park or even a bar. But even then, one of the many things that had come from the friendship was the dire help from each of the friends upon another whenever homework was involved, which was exactly why, when Newt inquired about Thomas' problem with his assignment, Thomas quickly confided in the older boy to allow him to attempt to explain what he couldn't come close to understand.

While Newt moved close to Thomas to give a go at helping him, Teresa realised her mind had become distracted enough to jump startled when she heard the familiar electronic tones of R2D2's calling in the form of a text notification. "Oh." She said, blushing shortly after a moment of silence and looking around the table at the five guys that she realised were looking right at her, making her aware that the tones had come from her own sweater pocket. Everyone but Minho looked at Teresa with surprised expressions. "What? I like Star Wars." Teresa said, not failing to see Newt's smiling and even impressed expression before she reached inside her pocket to take her phone; and only when her eyes fell on the shinny notification did she realise why Minho looked more conflicted than surprised: the text had come from him. _Just ask him out already_, it said_. _Her eyes widened as she looked up at Minho, who, unlike the other four boys, was still looking at her. _"Who?"_ Teresa mouthed, making Minho's eyes roll before they motioned with a short flick toward Newt, who was fully explaining things to Thomas as if he were a teacher himself. Teresa's eyes widened a little more before closing for a couple of seconds as she released the quietest of sighs; something that made Minho smirk, but she swiftly unlocked her phone and typed out a quick reply. _I don't know what you're talking about. _She sent, raising her gaze toward Minho quick enough to see him look down toward his own phone, hidden under the table.

Once again, Minho's eyes rolled. _Oh, come on. _he typed, _You like him and he likes you, it's been obvious from the moment you arrived together and you were wearing his favourite t-shirt cut to fit you perfectly. _

_He told me he had another one just like it. _Teresa quickly replied, her brow rising, and hoping that whatever heat she felt on her cheeks was only internal and she wasn't actually blushing enough for anyone else to see it.

_Well, he lied. He BOUGHT one just like it that weekend after meeting you. _Minho confided. _I would know, I went to buy it with him. _

Teresa's brow furrowed for a moment, her eyes lifting to meet Minho's across the table again, who nodded once and smirked victoriously. Her eyes flicked to look at Newt, who was listening intently to whatever explanation or inquiry Thomas was voicing, then returned to look at the Asian boy, who nodded twice with that smile still crossing his lips. This time it was Teresa's turn to roll her eyes. _He spilt his coffee on me, he probably wanted to be nice. It was his smallest shirt. _

Minho sighed, he actually sighed, before typing out a quick reply. _T, trust me when I tell you that Newt might be from an English family but he ain't a gentleman. TRUST me. _

Teresa snorted. But instead of replying she simply rolled her eyes toward Minho again before she looked in Newt's direction, who was sitting back straight beside her and smiling, clearly not having missed the last seconds of her expression toward the Asian boy. "You okay?" He asked, making Teresa's eyes blink as she so discretely lowered her hands to hide her phone under the table the way Minho was.

"Yeah, fine." She replied, looking more suspicious when she attempted not to.

"You sure?" Newt questioned again with his accent emphasizing the second word strongly.

"Yeah, T, you sure?" Minho quickly voiced, wincing seconds later after a thud that was audible from under the table. Teresa had kicked him, but not looked at him.

"Of course." She said instead toward Newt, who'd looked in Minho's direction. This time, Gally, Alby and Thomas were looking between the girl and the Asian boy and at one another in confusion. "Why?" She asked innocently.

Newt, just like everyone else, looked from Minho to Teresa and back toward his childhood friend with narrowed eyes. When his chocolate hues landed on Teresa's electric blues again, she smiled. "No reason, I guess." Newt voiced, looking at Thomas, Gally and Alby, who just shrugged and shook their heads before returning their gazes toward their own notebooks; a motion he mirrored shortly after shaking his own head.

Once the attention of all the boys was away from her, Teresa's eyes nearly drilled a hole in the middle of Minho's skull. He only smiled as victoriously as he dared while wiggling his brows up and down a couple of times. Teresa sighed, her eyes landing on another boy; shaggy haired and deeply concentrated on his newly explained homework. She smirked as an old thought resurfaced to the very front of her mind and she unlocked her phone again to type a brand new text to express it. _Fine. I will if you will. _She sent Minho, returning to their voiceless conversation.

Teresa definitely enjoyed seeing Minho's confused expression as he typed furiously into his phone. _What in the hell do you mean? _

_I'll ask Newt out, if you ask HIM out. _This time, it was Teresa's turn to smirk, for she could see a tiny shade of pink colour Minho's face. Had she actually made her friend _blush_!?

_WHO?! _Minho replied quicker than Teresa thought possible.

Teresa's eyes rolled, and an exaggerated sigh escaped her smiling lips. _Look to your left. _She sent.

Minho did, as if he wasn't aware of who he was sitting beside. Thomas looked up from his notebook to reach for his cup of coffee, looking back at Minho and smiling at him calmly once while setting his cup of coffee down again and looking down at his notebook, returning to his intense scribbling as if he hadn't been at all surprised to have found Minho looking at him even for a short moment. The Asian boy met Teresa's knowing gaze again, hating the little smirk that formed across her lips for a few seconds before he looked down toward his phone one more time, typing as quickly as he had moments ago to reply to the text he'd received. _I have no idea what you're talking about. _

Teresa simply laughed, making everyone around the table look up from their work and a slightly annoyed Gally to wonder out loud. "Alright, what's going on between you two?" He asked, dropping his pen on his notebook and heavily staring at Minho and Teresa.

"Absolutely nothing." She innocently stated, setting one hand on her notebook as if she'd been using it to work seconds prior and making basically everyone in the booth raise their brows. Teresa's eyes rolled, while under the table she singlehandedly typed out a text to Minho. _Neither of you are good at hiding it, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Do we have a deal?_ "I was just wondering if you'd all like to go to a movie this Friday. And Minho here sent me a funny reply to that idea, that's all." She sent the text.

"Uh huh." Gally expressed, disbelieving, as he reached for his cup of coffee.

"What movie?" Newt wondered, looking at Teresa beside him with a curious gaze.

"The Amazing Spiderman?" The truth was that Teresa had been wanting to watch that film, and she _had _been planning to ask the boys if they wanted to join her and watch it, but it was a coincidence that her mind took her in that direction at this very moment. A welcome coincidence, that is.

"Hey, I was planning to watch that." Thomas said, setting his pen down nodding toward her. "I'm in."

"Yeah, why not?" Gally shrugged once, before looking down at his notebook and picking up his pen again.

"Sure." Newt nodded, smiling at Teresa one more time, the look between each other lasting maybe a second longer than it should have, which had Minho smiling by the time Teresa looked at him.

"Alright, I'm in too." Alby said beside Teresa, making her blue hues rest on him before he spoke again. "Now let's stay quiet for a few minutes more, okay? This damn project is due in an hour." NYIT Truly turned everyone's minds into mush whenever coursework was involved.

"Cool." Teresa said, smiling, sitting straighter in her place while looking in Minho's direction again. Her electric blue hues shining triumphant for a moment as she looked at her friend questioningly and with that victorious grin continuing to reign her lips.

From across the table, Minho sighed; he'd read the text. His eyes rolled and narrowed shortly toward Teresa before he dared look at Thomas, who was reading over everything he'd written down, and then sighed again. His eyes fell on Teresa's one more time, and a silent pause crossed between them... before Minho nodded once in her direction. "Alright. I'm in." He said, smirking.

And Teresa knew that he didn't only mean that he was in for the plans she'd just made up for Friday. It seemed soon enough she'd have to have the guts to ask Newt out.

**To Be Continued.**


	6. Chapter 6: Someone Like Me

Everything had been fine; all had been completely normal and wonderful, but then s_he _had to come out of nowhere. Thomas acted normal, or as normal as he could, as he introduced her to his friends. It hadn't been as awkward as he'd thought it would be, hell, she was still his friend. It hurt to look at her laugh and flirt with other guys the way she suddenly did with Gally, but hey, she was still his friend. Of course, the one that had been the most horrible to introduce her to had been Minho.

For the past few months, his occasional touches and almost innocent gazes that "accidentally" locked with his own now and then had been the one thing making him forget all about Brenda. All about the way she kissed, the way she held his hand, the way she wrapped her arms around him as if he were her lifeline. All of those things had been slowly fading away into images of Minho's hand brushing against his own on the way home, whether on purpose or not it didn't matter to Thomas, images of the way Minho's eyes squinted when he smiled, or the way his snarky demeanour brought forth more smiles in a day from him than he'd smiled in the past few months since his break up with Brenda.

She'd been liked by everyone in the little group; of course she had. Who wouldn't like her with her genuine smile and her big brown eyes? Her gentle and sometimes raspy voice and her long brunette locks. _Ugh. Goddamn it, let it go, you idiot. _Thomas thought once again, his eyes rolling with annoyance before he could stop them. He'd been doing so well, so incredibly well, especially with Minho around, and it felt as if it had all come tumbling down just because she happened to recognise him in that stupid Starbucks. And now he was almost angry with himself for... well, everything. He scoffed, again, without really being able to stop himself from it.

"Dude, you okay?" Minho asked beside him, bringing Thomas tumbling back down onto the present of the moonlit sky and the steps away from the big NYIT campus that would lead him and the very friend he'd been thinking about, that had been helping him forget Brenda, toward their dorm building. How long had Thomas been reacting to his own thoughts outwardly?

His lids closed and opened a couple of times as if to bat away the eminent thoughts of his ex girlfriend, and instead big wondrous orbs rested on Minho's questioning gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine." Thomas replied to his friend's inquiry, lifting a shoulder in a careless shrug as his hands wrapped tightly on the straps of his plaid backpack.

"You sure?" Minho's brows rose, making Thomas smile at the way it made his pretty face look like a cartoon; then he looked away, almost starting to laugh and making Minho's brow furrow in a very confused frown, his head ticking back once while he wondered if he'd missed some sort of information that should be making him almost laugh too. "Thomas?" He questioned wondrously, looking around him as if the answer to Thomas' laughter rested on his surroundings before he dared look in his friend's direction again. "You okay?" He asked once again.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Thomas repeated, chuckling once again before his head shook in a dismissive manner. "It's just awkward."

"What is?" Though he attempted to stop it, Minho's heart beat wildly. Ever since his deal with Teresa a few days ago he'd been attempting to find a good way to ask the unruly haired guy, that walked now beside him, out. He was nervous; hell, yes, him, Minho was nervous, he was human, after all. But he wouldn't admit it. He was nervous that maybe he'd misread the looks that had been shared, or the lack of rejection whenever Minho's hand brushed Thomas'; and because of the deal he'd made with Teresa in a moment of boldness, he now had to come up with a way of asking the risky question. Which made Minho feel as if his nerves were written across his forehead, and at that very moment, wonder if maybe Thomas had figured out what he was attempting to do and was going to reject him before he even asked. _Damn it, Teresa. _Minho cursed the blue eyed girl in his mind as his eyes studied Thomas' walking form beside him.

"My ex girlfriend." Thomas replied, his eyes refusing to meet Minho's as they walked forward. "Remember I told you about her?"

Oh, Minho remembered. She was one of the reasons he'd waited so long to do anything about his attraction to Thomas and the nerves ate at him whenever the thought of taking action came into his mind, because, well, _what if he was straight?!_ "The one that cheated on you?" He asked as if he didn't think of her as much as probably Thomas did. When Thomas nodded, Minho looked away, his eyes falling to the ground before him as both his hands held onto the one strap of his backpack that crossed his chest as if it were his lifeline. "What about her?"

Thomas didn't miss a beat of the emotions he hated to be causing his friend; or the ones he _thought_ he was causing. Maybe he was just full of himself and there was absolutely nothing going on between them. "That girl I introduced you all to in the coffee shop?" He qustioned, waiting until Minho nodded to continue. "Yeah, that was her." He confided, looking sideways at Minho as if the revelation was bound to have a big reaction from the gorgeous Asian boy. And though he was halfway glad to be talking about this, Minho was probably the last person he wanted to talk about it with.

"Oh!" Minho exclaimed, his eyes falling surprised on Thomas at his side. "Wait, Brenda?" He questioned as if Thomas could be referring to any other girl, when, really, the only other girl they ever saw together was Teresa, and as far as Minho knew they'd all met the very same day, so Teresa was _definitely _not it. Plus, Thomas hadn't introduced him to Teresa, Teresa had introduced them both! Of course, Thomas nodded in outmost confirmation. "Really!?"

Thomas laughed and nodded again, forcing his eyes to remain on Minho's features as they walked. "Yeah, why?"

"Oh, nothing. I just..." Minho was shocked. He'd just _met _the ex? _The_ girl Thomas had told him about; the one Thomas had texted him about when he first got the suspicions that he was being cheated on, the one he freaked out about in Minho's texts when they broke up. _That_ was her, and Minho had liked her. _Damn. _"I didn't see that plot twist coming." He thought out loud. Making Thomas chuckle.

"Yeah, I know." Finally Thomas looked away, his eyes fixating on the floor he stepped on as his mind returned to thinking about the hilarious joke the universe had decided to throw at him. A silence cloaked Minho and Thomas as they walked; both boys stuck in their own minds, one considering the new information and becoming even more nervous, the other cussing the world for having handed him the biggest joke it could hand him. "It's just annoying." Thomas thought out loud, surprising himself by looking over at Minho, not at all surprised to find him looking right at him. Thomas looked away again. Well, he'd already started speaking, might as well continue. "I mean, I've been doing so well. I was actually starting to be thankful to WICKED U for taking up most of time and only leaving me enough for you crazy bunch, but then having to see her again." Thomas groaned, lifting his hands to rub them against his face in a frustrated manner. "It's like all this moving on was for nothing." The words came muffled by his hands, but then he sighed loudly and lowered them.

All the while, Minho's mind went in an overdrive circle; he could remember the near panic attack he'd had to calm Thomas from when he'd texted him about the suspicions, the thoughts that came over him that day of _Who would dare cheat on _him!? _How stupid would someone have to be to cheat on Thomas? _He could remember comforting him when the break up happened, staying up until ungodly hours of the night when he had a test five hours later just so he could attempt to calm his good friend down. It was a side of Thomas Minho never expected to see, but he was glad he had. It's what had made him like Thomas the more. But damn, was he conflicted now; if Thomas hadn't moved on, then it meant...

"I mean, why can't I find someone who'll be honest with me?" Thomas suddenly started again, completely breaking Minho's train of thought. "Someone who'll be there for me and _let _me be there for her or him at the same time. Equally. Someone who won't lie, you know? A nice person, genuine; for once someone who won't lie to me _at all_."

"So... someone like me." Minho said, without exactly noticing he'd said it out loud. He'd been thinking about what Thomas had been saying, every single characteristic Thomas had requested of whomever his future centre of affection was, and the one that he repeated at least three times, but above all he'd been thinking of how Thomas had said _"_her_ or him"_ during his describing speech; in other words, he'd been distracted, _very _distracted. So distracted that he didn't notice he'd spoken his thoughts out loud until he realised Thomas had stopped walking. Minho's eyes widened, heart beating faster than he thought possible as he turned around to look at a surprised Thomas a few feet behind him. "Oh, crap." Minho muttered, taking only a step closer to his friend before he attempted to speak again.

Only, before he could, Thomas's eyes narrowed shortly and a smile as small as he dared make it took over his lips. "You like me?" He hid it well, but inside, Thomas' heart was beating quickly and his mind had thankfully slipped from the subject of Brenda to rest only on his Asian friend.

"What? No." Minho said, looking away and to the side, toward the path Thomas and himself should be walking towards. But even if he'd actually tried to, he'd failed hiding that, in fact, he liked Thomas _very _much. When Minho looked at Thomas again, he noticed he was smirking. "I don't!" Minho repeated, rolling his eyes forcefully and feeling as if his heart was beating to burst from his chest. "You're one ugly shuck-face." Using the words the whole group had picked up from him and Newt was only a way to hide his own nerves, mask them with a light demeanour. Finally, he turned around, his eyes widening again and his head shaking because _why had he said that!? _Minho sighed. Almost relieved when he heard Thomas chuckling behind him again, shortly after, both friends started walking once more.

"You like me." Thomas was smug on the outside, but on the inside he was almost thankful, glad that Minho had spoken up because he would probably have never done it, and that strange feeling of butterflies on his stomach, that basically came over him whenever he found his gaze locked with Minho's once in a while, took over him at that very moment, but of course, Brenda remained at the back of his mind. Well, it was confirmed, sort of. "It's okay." He said, clearing his throat and following along Minho, forbidding himself from erasing that smile from his face and basically taking the biggest leap of faith he could, especially while his heart was still mending from the horrible break Brenda had brought with her into that Starbucks, but taking it nonetheless. "I like you too."

This time it had been Minho who almost stopped walking. Instead, he looked curious eyed at Thomas, his hands tightening on the strap of his backpack again as a simple and almost emotionless "You do?" left his lips.

Thomas laughed nervously, his own eyes widening for a short moment before nodding in Minho's direction. His ears were almost red. "Yeah, I do." He said, laughing in a manner that made his words sound like _yeah, isn't it obvious?_ before he looked away toward the main entrance of the dorm building Minho and Thomas lived in.

Suddenly it seemed that that was it; that the moment Minho had been looking for had finally arrived. In the weirdest and less expected of ways, but it had arrived. It was his turn to be bold again. "Go out with me, then." He voiced, keeping his eyes fixated on Thomas for a reaction as he held the door open for Minho.

It wasn't until the door was closed behind Thomas and they were both walking toward the big stairs that would lead them up to their own mini apartments that he actually replied. "Okay." Simple, but effective. He'd only had to think about it because he didn't want to make a rebound out of Minho; but it'd been months, and if it hadn't been for Brenda showing up out of nowhere then his feelings would not have been stirred at all. So, then, why not? "Yeah, let's go out."

"On a date." Minho expressed as he went up the stairs, walking one or two steps ahead of Thomas and looking back, almost as if, if he hadn't worded out the state of the agreement, the meaning could be completely misread.

Thomas chuckled for the fourth time that night, and he nodded his head. Stopping at the top of the stairs where him and Minho had to part for each of them to head to their own dorm room. "Yeah, on a date." He smiled, daring to look into Minho's eyes to share a locking gaze that was meant to be reassuring and caring and all the other things that had once been accidental between them.

Minho smiled, nodding once and feeling more relieved than he ever thought he'd feel after asking Thomas out. It seemed he had a lot to tell Teresa now.

**To Be Continued**


	7. Chapter 7: You Saved Me

The group left the movie theatre with opinionated words and arguments of accuracy from the comic Gally was so much into and the film the whole group, as per Teresa's suggestion, had just watched. They walked down the street with half-filled soda cups and almost empty popcorn containers, and though Teresa was the only girl in the group, she felt safer than ever. She couldn't too much get into the conversation due to her lack of interest in comics, but she listened intently to the opinions and arguments of every single one of her friends, for they were all interesting; though Newt, who walked calmly beside her sipping from his soda and holding her hand, remained as quiet as her.

It had been a night with unspoken affection for Newt and Teresa; from the moment the group met in front of the movie theatre the two friends had been as close as always, moving as if they were two magnets that dictated the other's next actions, and they were both completely oblivious to the fact, even as Newt's gentle digits grazed Teresa's back in greeting and her eyes lifted to meet that of her tall friend's standing beside her; she smiled, he smiled and then all contact was broken to continue the conversation the group had delved into from the second they'd seen each other. After that, little moments of contact between Teresa and Newt would continue; contact and kind touches that could easily be confused as _something_ else, like the way Teresa's hand rested on Newt's chest for a moment as they considered what snacks to buy, or the light lean in Newt's direction as she sat beside him while watching the film, or, like at that very moment, the way in which Newt's hand had reached for hers when they'd left the movie theatre, something that Teresa didn't even much react to with anything other than a gentle squeeze to his warm digits. That's the way their friendship had grown to be, a friendship in which they'd stay up together, texting or FaceTime'ing and debating movies, music, books, and sometimes even talking about their lives with the group or whatever little thing had started peaking their attention (like the way Thomas and Minho had started looking cosier around each other and holding hands under the table like no one knew it was happening), until one of them fell asleep; a friendship in which they'd both seek out the other's touch for comfort or simple familiarity whenever the other wasn't feeling too well, one in which regardless of how little time they had known each other it was as if they'd been together since childhood, because they trusted each other, in good or bad.

In fact, such had been the case two times now, when Newt's own problems had been too much for him to handle, that Teresa had been there without even thinking twice about helping her friend. She took the very next bus that would leave her right in front of Newt's dorm, and attempted to distract and comfort him with things she knew he liked; it was like her presence brought a shine with her that made him smile, and if not forget and feel better about whatever was in his mind, then allow him to look through it with a clearer mind; with her help, if possible. Like the day Newt's mind grew overwhelmed with the kind of work his six teachers were asking of him, five fifty-plus page essays due the very next week; time seemed too little, information seemed scarce, and Newt's brain waved in panic as he stared at everything he had to do, overwhelmed and making everything seem absolutely impossible, blocking him from any sort of progress. And then Teresa had arrived, making Newt relax as much as possible and list everything he had to do, setting points and jock notes for him to work through things quickly, making all the work seem like it wasn't much at all.

It was exactly the reason Teresa didn't find Newt holding her hand as anything strange or distinct of their friendship, for she'd started the contact between them more than a month or so prior. It was simply a comforting touch, one that Newt didn't pull away from, when their teacher, Miss Paige, scolded Teresa in front of the whole class; exposing her essay's mistakes and lack of needed information. It had been a week or two after they'd met, and Newt and Teresa had decided to sit beside each other in both of the classes they shared; Teresa sat there, face red with the mere embarrassment that filled her as Professor Paige questioned her publically about the _dire and horrid decisions you've made for your essay, Miss Agnes. _and Teresa had just done it. As her electric blues stared at the speaking professor, parted lips letting out gentle breaths, her hand simply moved in a second-long movement to search out Newt's; making his eyes fall to their sudden contact. His eyes danced from their connected digits to Teresa's speaking form, as she attempted a reply to the accusing inquiry that Professor Paige had asked of her, and though a little frown reigned over the blonde boy's forehead, he didn't pull away; in fact, he'd squeezed her hand, smiling shortly and comforting in the only silent way he could while in a classroom, and giving the beautiful blue eyed girl by his side something to lean on in her moment of embarrassment and need.

Memories such as those were the ones Teresa sheltered on as she walked along with her group of friends; not because she needed them, nor because she was so lost on Newt that she could think of nothing else, no, this was real life, not a movie; but because of the imminent thought that reigned at her mind once and again: the deal she'd made with Minho. It'd only been a week or so since they'd made it, and after having to postpone the movie night with the guys to a week later, Teresa had been surprised when, the following Monday after their sealing texts, she'd heard from Minho,; he'd stated that a date was set, and Thomas had said yes. It made Teresa's heart lift with joy as well as beat right on her throat, and gentle touches from Newt's digits, such as the ones he shared with her that day, to send reminding waves to her brain, asking once and again when she was going to do what she'd told Minho she'd do.

Her mind was deep set on the many different scenarios that she could use to ask Newt out, that she didn't notice the lethal step she had just taken forward until the piercing sound of a car horn broke any and every bubble of thought she'd been set in; bright white lights approached her and illuminated every one of her surprised features as she basically froze in place, eyes automatically closing... and then a nearly painful and hard collision stole her breath away, less agonizing than she'd thought it'd be, but it didn't come from where she'd expected; it came from behind her along with a protective and strong pair of arms that wrapped around her frame, pressing her against someone's front, and the loud sound of a hurrying car speeding away inches away from her. Her feet weren't on the ground anymore, and when she opened her eyes she realised she was holding onto dear life to the arms that had saved her; it didn't take long for her to know who it'd been, hell, he'd been holding her hand comfortingly all this time. "Bloody hell, Teresa." Newt spoke against her ear from his protecting embrace as he slowly lowered her so she could set her feet on the ground again. Everyone in the group was now looking at them, wide eyed and open mouthed as if they'd just seen a ghost, or worse, they'd almost seen the _becoming _of a ghost.

"Shit." Teresa whispered, hear beating harder than she thought possible, staying in Newt's arms for a little longer without truly realising it while she attempted to calm her heart from the "near-death" experience.

"Are you alright?" Newt asked her, as Thomas, Minho, Gally and Alby moved closer to them, asking their own questions of concern in friendly echoes.

Teresa looked at all of them, finally squeezing Newt's arms gently so he'd let her go free while she looked around at her friends. "I'm fine." She announced with a smile.

"Yeah, close call." Thomas quickly said, eyes flicking worriedly from Teresa to Newt and to the road they were going to cross _when their turn came_. "Didn't you hear me say to be careful? The pedestrian light had just turned red."

Teresa's big blue eyes stared at Thomas for a moment, her head shaking. "I must have had my mind somewhere else." She admitted, clearing her throat and dusting off her dress, suddenly realising that her drink wasn't even on her hands anymore, it was now spluttered all over the road. _Great. _She thought, but at least it wasn't her.

"Well, be more careful. I don't want anyone dying on my watch." Thomas said, making Teresa snort and the rest of their friends roll their eyes.

"Slim it, Tommy." Newt quickly said, placing a comforting hand at the small of Teresa's back; a motion no one in the group at all missed. "You wouldn't want someone yelling at you if you'd just about been turned into bloody mush on a road, would ya?"

"See, that kind of thing would never happen to me." Thomas quickly replied, stepping back to stand in between Gally and Minho, his head turning to look at the pedestrian light, awaiting for the little white walking figure to shine on their cue to move. "I pay attention to where I'm going, I wouldn't be crushed by a car."

"Unless someone pushed you in front of it." Gally muttered before he lead the straw of his drink in between his lips, following snickers echoing around the group as all of them started crossing the street together once their cue shone on.

"You wouldn't dare." Thomas stated before reaching inside his almost empty container of popcorn; when silence followed as they reached the other side of the road, he looked toward his group of friends, who all had a very amused smirk crossing their lips. "Would you?" When no one answered, he turned around, while all his friends walked forward, Thomas walked backwards, facing them before he repeated. "Would you?!"

"I don't know." Newt voiced, face as equally amused as serious as he looked at Teresa beside him before looking at the opposite side, where the rest of the guys walked in a line, looking like either a gang or a very diverse music group. "Would we, Alby?"

"Well, he _is _a little bossy sometimes..." Alby innocently stated as he slurped from his own drink, reaching into the container of popcorn Gally held so he could pop some into his own mouth. "Would we, Captain?" He asked after chewing, looking at the green eyed guy beside him as they continued walking. Captain had been the nickname he'd had for his friend from the moment he found out he'd been captain of the volleyball team in high school.

"We _so _would." Gally finally finished; all the while, Thomas' eyes grew in shock, and his lips formed an O while he walked backwards. It was a surprise he hadn't bumped into anything, not that the streets were at all busy where they'd decided to go.

"I'm _so _offended right now." He announced, mocking Gally's prior tone and returning on his stride to walk right beside Minho, mainly because he hadn't said a word about the subject, secondly, because he wanted to hold his hand.

At least, up until that point, Minho hadn't spoken, but now, he betrayed Thomas by speaking in favour of his their other friends. "Suck it up, shuck-face." He quickly announced, making Thomas' mockingly offended amber hues widen in a glare toward the Asian boy. "You better start being nice to us, or you'll never know could happen." That had the rest of the group laughing at the feigned offended look that crossed the unruly haired boy's face.

After a while more of walking, Gally offered the rest of the group to stop at his dorm for drinks, and of course, everyone agreed. And all the time, even as they walked, even as they talked, and even as she tried her hardest to pay attention to what she was doing and saying, the same few thoughts beat at Teresa's brain; thoughts of the way in which her blonde friend had just saved her life, thoughts of how thankful she'd been the moment the collision had been against Newt's chest instead of the front of a probably more painful windshield of a car, thoughts of how she didn't dare let go of Newt's hand because, even though everyone else continued speaking about other subjects, all she could think about was the few images she'd seen and the way her heart had nearly stopped from fear when she thought she was going to die, the way she'd frozen and _closed her eyes, _as if part of her had accepted that that was her last moment on earth. It seemed she owed Newt her life.

And with those thoughts turning in a loop inside her brain, all adding up to the suddenly slightly different and thankful way she looked at Newt now, while she walked with her friends, her hand securely held in his, she wondered once and again, and again: _How the hell am I supposed to ask Newt out!? _

**To Be Continued**


	8. Chapter 8: A Beautiful Coincidence

Teresa could recognise the tooting echo of her phone's ringtone, and as she hurried down the streets of New York, she managed to pick the device from her leather jacket pocket; dainty digits moving along the electronic so she could figure out who was calling her. When she finally saw the picture that announced the caller ID, a little smile crossed her lips, her thumb swiping hurriedly across the screen to finally answer the call. "Newt!" She cheerily responded. "I was about to call you."

"Oh?" The male voice on the other end of the line replied. "You were? Why?" Newt wondered, making Teresa's brown locks dance along with her shaking head as if she were before Newt and he could see her.

"Nuh-uh, you first, you were the one who called." She announced as she carefully continued on her journey home, grocery bags hanging from both her elbows.

From the other end of the line, Newt chuckled. "Of course." He stated, and Teresa heard some shuffling from his end. "I was just wondering if you wanted to come over to watch a film. We need to talk about something." He mysteriously informed her, making her brows lift with curiosity.

Of course, though suddenly her heart beat quicker than seconds before, Teresa didn't allow Newt to know just how nervous he'd instantly made her with those last six words; instead, she freed a sardonic grin that she hopped mirrored in her speech as she talked to boy at the other end of the line. "Choose, my friend. Do you want to watch a movie or talk?"

A feigned exasperated sigh echoed against Teresa's ear, making her smile a little more; but even through the sigh he could hear the smile in Newt's lips. "Please, just come over?" He asked. "I've Cheetos, onion rings and Skittles ready to be devoured by a couple of hungry people."

"That has to be the strangest combination of snacks I've ever heard of." Teresa admitted, making a face at the door of her apartment building before chuckling shortly. "But _fiiiiiine, _you had me at Cheetos. I'm just getting home, I'll take the next bus."

"Wonderful." Newt's tone made the smile that had taken over Teresa's lips remain fully, even as she buzzed in the number to unlock the door. "So why were you about to call me?" The blonde boy curiously asked, sounding slightly tense for all of a second or two, making Teresa stop to wonder if she'd actually heard the change of tone or if she'd just imagined it.

She decided to ignore it for the moment. "I'll tell you when I see you; it's better to be talked about face to face." She confided, deciding to take the stairs to the eighth floor so that the connection from the phone wouldn't be lost on her journey up within the elevator.

"O...kay?" Newt suddenly sounded a little nervous, and it alone made Teresa's heart beat a little faster; she decided to cover it with a little mindless laugh.

"It's nothing bad, Newt." She informed her friend. "Or at least I hope it isn't."

"Thanks, T. That is _so _helpful." Teresa heard in a sardonic tone from the other side of the line, this time, making her genuinely laugh.

"You're welcome, blondie." Finally reaching the eighth floor, Teresa reached to open the door that lead from the stairs to the apartments, flicking her arms as if the movement alone were to make the piercing feeling of the plastic bag's handles stop from stinging the inside of her elbows; but it actually made it worse. "I'll be there in a bit, alright?"

"Alright, be careful." Newt replied, making Teresa nod, again, as if Newt were looking at her.

"I will." She smiled. "See ya soon!" And with those last words, Teresa hung up, finally using her both her hands to reach for her house keys so she could enter her home and relieve herself of the pain the plastic grocery bags were, smiling only for one reason. When she was able to leave her groceries on the square table in her kitchen - only deciding to put away the things that could get spoiled if left out in the open - and before leaving her home once again, she realised something: she'd decided she was going to ask Newt out that very day.

* * *

"Sure, you can put it on the table." Newt said with an amused smile and a light chuckle, closing the door to his comfortably medium dorm flat after Teresa had stepped in with a box of Oreos in one hand and a little pot with an adorably small purple Prussian Buttercup in the other. "Why are you bringing me flowers?"

"_A _flower, Newt. Single" Teresa corrected him, smiling as she set the purple allure on the table as he'd suggested. "I just walked by the flower shop and I saw it, and I kind of laughed because of its scientific name, so I bought you one." She joyously announced as she took the pack of Oreos to Newt's little coffee table, where the rest of the promised snacks awaited, before she could join him on the couch moments after he'd sat.

"Okay? What's the scientific name?" The blonde boy curiously asked as he got comfortable on his own couch; it wasn't weird for him to see Teresa move so easily around his home, he liked it, he was used to it. That is simply the way their friendship had flourished.

"You're going to love it." She announced, breaking open the pack of Oreos and offering one to her friend, who didn't hesitate on taking one of the cookies offered. "You ready for this?" Newt nodded as he bit into the Oreo in his hands. "It's called 'Ranunculus.'"

Newt snorted. "That name is ridiculous." His head flicked lightly so the few locks that threatened to fall against his forehead, didn't.

"Exactly!" Teresa laughed. "That's exactly what I thought, that's what makes it funnier. It's like whomever named this thing wanted people to know it was a ridiculous name, so they made it rhyme."

"Oooooooooooh." Newt nodded slowly as he finally understood the joke; and only when he'd swallowed the last piece of his cookie, he chuckled. "And that made you buy me one." He stated almost as if he couldn't believe the simplicity of the reason; but this was Teresa, there was yet to be a day when she didn't surprise him somehow.

"Mmhmmm." She mindlessly replied, reaching for another one of the cookies while looking away from her blonde friend, feeling the nerves she had felt solely by his call, and had wanted to hide from him, raise up onto the surface; only when she looked away she realised that the television was on, the big blue Sony sign bouncing against the corners of the screen as the electronic seemed set on standby, and even though her heart beat right at the bottom of her throat, Teresa forced herself to speak again; it was time. She had to do it now or she'd chicken out. "So, I was just wondering-"

"I have something to ask yo-" Newt spoke at the same time as Teresa's last words, making a little smile cross his lips and his back to rest against the couch again; a movement Teresa didn't dare think too much about because his hands were full of snacks all of a sudden. "Oh. Sorry, go ahead."

"No," Teresa quickly replied, remembering the manner with which she thought she'd heard Newt speak on the phone when he said they had something to talk about. "You go first; if I remember well you were the one who told me we needed to talk." She smiled, hiding her newfound nerves by reaching for the first bunch of snacks she could reach for.

"No, no." Newt shortly echoed, lifting a hand to motion to his friend sitting specially near him. "Go on, you started the conversation." He watched her carefully move, her eyes looking at the cookies and the skittles she'd set on the palm of her hand as if they held the secret to the next record breaking invention; it only made him the more nervous.

"My thing can wait, I'm actually very curious to know what you wanted to talk about." She didn't lift her eyes, even as she finally picked one thing out of the bunch she'd taken from the table and led it to her lips.

"Teresa..." Newt frowned a little, and the sound of her name in that accent of his was enough to have her look up from her self-prohibited destination.

"Newt..." She said in the very same tone as he had, allowing the smallest of smiles to cross her lips.

"What's going on?" He wondered leaning away from his comfortable position on the couch so he could approach Teresa a little more, automatically placing a hand on her free one.

This made Teresa smile, take a breath, and then, without letting go of Newt's hand, reach for a napkin to leave all her snacks before ridding her digits from any food residues on her black jeans. "This." She said, raising her hand and Newt's for a moment before letting them rest on the couch again, her eyes lifting to look into his beautiful browns, which softly shadowed with the frown that had invaded his confused forehead. "It's nothing bad, Newt." She gently chuckled, making one of his brows raise in curiosity, yet he remained there, not even a foot apart from her on the couch.

"Then tell me." He encouraged, allowing his eyes to search the ocean blue of Teresa's orbs as she continued smiling; noticing, whether she was aware of it or not, the way in which nerves made her orbs dance slightly.

So she did. "I just..." She frowned for a second or two, taking a deep breath that allowed her frame to sit straighter for a moment before she nodded and let her whole breath out on a slow sigh that achieved nothing but make her heart beat that much faster; her eyes closed..."I was just going to ask you out." The words left in a calm tone while slowly her lids lifted to allow her to look to a suddenly very much smiling Newt.

He couldn't help it; without letting her hand go, his eyes lowered and his head shook, a gentle chuckle escaping his lips. It made Teresa worry for only a short moment, but he didn't take long to compose himself before he finally spoke. "Me too," he admitted, chuckling one more time.

"What?" If Teresa's heart had been wildly beating before, now it should probably be considered a medical problem; if she didn't know better she'd think she was having a heart attack.

"Me too." Newt repeated, lifting his head and squeezing Teresa's soft digits with his own in a second-long motion while he quickly continued. "I was going to ask _you_ out; that's why I said we needed to talk; leave it to you to beat me to it."

Teresa's brows lifted. "Oh." Her lids blinked repeatedly for a moment while a smile took over her lips, her head tilted only gently to the side as she looked down, because _holy shit, _he'd wanted to ask her out, and _of course I had to ask first_.

"Yeah." A kind chuckle left Newt's lips again, seconds before a shrug lifted his shoulders. "Technically _you_ asked _me_." With a nod of his head, Newt smiled once more. "So, for the record," his head shook now, it was almost as if he couldn't believe just how in sink him and Teresa had decided to be that day. "Yes, I'd love to go out with you, Teressa Agnes." Teresa laughed in a carefree demeanour before nodding, it was not what she'd expected the conversation to go like, but if she was being honest she wouldn't change one thing about it.

It was moments later, when both friends sat comfortably cuddled together at one of the corners of the loveseat watching Star Wars and eating snacks, that Teresa's mind became clouded with all the horrible scenarios that she hadn't allowed herself to think of before asking Newt out, in fear that the thoughts alone would stop her from taking action; the what if's, the problems that could become an obstacle for them both, it made her half pay attention to the images on the screen and become fearful that moments such as the one she shared with Newt at that very moment could stop at one point or another; and she feared it. "Newt?" She heard herself asking, the images of Darth Vader speaking with Luke Skywalker going almost unnoticed in her mind because of all the thoughts that heavily clouded her mind.

"Hm?" He asked, not taking his eyes off of the screen even if his attention had completely shifted toward the girl calmly resting against his side, one of his arms around her as his digits played with the tips of her hair.

"Do you think we can make ourselves a promise?" Teresa wondered out loud, only moments before she shifted her head so she could attempt to look into Newt's warm chocolate hues.

Finally, at these words, Newt's eyes fell to Teresa's, and as his brows rose shortly, he nodded. "What is it?"

For a moment, Teresa considered telling Newt to forget it, that maybe her idea of a promise was going to sound too stupid and everything would end before it even began, but then, exactly because of that thought, Teresa forced herself to voice out her mind, no matter how ridiculous the whole idea sounded. "I like this," she started, making Newt's brow furrow gently as he attempted to know exactly what she was talking about so he could take control of the situation the way he usually did, even though with Teresa he rarely could; maybe that's what made him like her so much, he didn't know. "I like the way our friendship is." Teresa finally continued, breaking Newt away from the momentary reverie he'd fallen into, and his eyes to search hers as if all the answers rested on her electric blues. "I like it when you come to me when you need me, when you reach for me as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I like to be able to reach out for your hand in comfort and have you not pull away." She paused, looking right into Newt's wondrous eyes as if solely by that form of contact she could let him know everything she feared. "I don't want to ruin that, ever; I want it to never change no matter what."

Suddenly every noise was simply background, and all that was left was Teresa's words and her eyes on his, the way her hand softly rested against his chest and the way she lay calmly against him on the couch. Newt couldn't help frowning, for a dire worry started to invade his mind. "What are you saying?" He gently asked in a tone barely higher than a whisper.

"I'm saying that I don't see any reason for us to not work." Teresa quickly responded as she watched the same fear that beat at her insides suddenly reflect on Newt's own features; features that, after her last statement, relaxed a little. "But if by some horrible chance things _don't _work..." Another pause lit Teresa's eyes with a tender urgency. "I want us to not allow things to change. Not this."

That's the moment Newt realised Teresa and him were more connected than he thought possible; those words were the exact same ones he'd been thinking all morning as he planned the little movie night where he'd thought of finally asking the girl he enjoyed being in the company of out on a date. In the little time they'd been friends Newt had finally felt like a part of something, he'd revived his friendship with Minho as if it had never changed, and he found in Teresa a tether; someone he could count on and could take care of as well, someone with whom he felt comfortable no matter the circumstances, as if they had known each other all their lives. In fact, if Newt believed in such things, he'd maybe even go as far as to think Teresa was his soul mate; romantic or non-romantic, but it felt as if she were, and the thought of losing exactly what they already had by taking the risk of moving things forward had been the one thing stopping him from asking the blue eyed girl out from the moment he'd wanted to: at least a month after they'd met in that messy hallway.

The question was, realistically, could Newt and Teresa savage anything if misfortune found its way to them? Could this promise Teresa spoke of be kept? "Okay." Newt heard himself saying, moments before his head followed along with the calmest of nods. The truth was, he couldn't know; there was absolutely no way to know if such a promise could be kept, or even _if _they would need the comfort of a pact like the one Teresa offered, and sure, it scared him, because if Newt liked one thing in the world it was order and logic; but even then, there was one thing Newt did know, and it was confirmed with the way his own heart beat in strange rhythms the moment Teresa's smile reached the beautiful blue of her eyes: there was no way to predict the future, but Newt would do everything in his power to keep his promise to Teresa if it became necessary, in fact... Newt would hope and work for the comfort of the pact to never be necessary. "I promise." He finalized, comforting Teresa with a squeeze to her frame against his, before he allowed his calming digits to return to their dance on Teresa's curly locks.

"Okay." Teresa confirmed, nodding once in the direction of her friend, "I promise too." Though it wasn't, she found it necessary to speak the words out loud, more for herself than the boy holding her close. It was a vow; an unspoken vow masked with solely those two words, that she would protect her friendship with Newt above all else, and if anything failed, no matter the past, no matter the words or the circumstances, Teresa would always be there for Newt whenever he needed her. And, just like Newt, Teresa, in her own mind, hoped that the cushion of the promise was nothing more than a spoken safety, because she meant every word she'd spoken: she didn't see any reason why the two wouldn't work together, for she felt as if they had already been for time past with nothing but the title missing.

And they hadn't even been fully aware of it until now.

**To Be Continued.**


	9. Chapter 9: A Stubborn Drunk

Teresa stepped up on the last step to the floor where Newt's dorm flat was, Minho waiting for her right atop the stairs, Thomas worried with his hand resting on Minho's shoulder. Her brow rose with curiosity; as if Minho's call hadn't worried her enough. "Has anything changed?" She asked, her eyes quickly shifting toward the black door that led to Newt's mini flat when a loud crash of glass echoed from inside. She looked at Minho once again.

"Does that answer your question?" Thomas asked, squeezing Minho's shoulder before looking at him. Minho leaned closer to Thomas, and Teresa watched his features shift in such a way that he almost looked traumatized, scared more than concerned. Something that made Teresa wonder if there was more to the little "he's too drunk and angry" excuse Minho had given her on the phone, for his expression twisted more in manners of life-threatening fears than the concern one might have for a very drunk friend.

"What happened?" Teresa asked as curiously as she tended to do, steps leading her forward until she stood only a couple of feet away from Newt's door.

"Failed two of his finals." Minho replied, voice lacking the usual light it shone with whenever he spoke. "He won't graduate with his class; he's going to have to retake the whole year and graduate with us."

Once again, Teresa failed to understand why Minho looked so distraught if their friend had only gotten drunk out of anger and annoyance at having to retake a whole year. With that same frown, Teresa turned to face the black door.

As she opened it with the help of her Asian friend and his copy key, all Teresa could think was how odd it had been that Minho had decided to call _her _to deal with a drunk Newt. One would think that's the best-friend-since-childhood's job, but instead the newly-best-female-friend had been called. _Why?_ In the phone call Minho had sworn to her that he had already tried talking to him, but all he'd achieved was to make Newt even angrier. So, with a kind nod of her head that informed Minho she was in control of the situation, _or attempted to be_, Teresa poked her head inside the little flat. One of her hands lifting to gently tap her knuckles against the wood of the door as she looked around in attempts to find her friend. "Newt?" She called, looking from side to side.

"Go away." Newt's voice responded intoxicated from the couch, making Teresa raise a brow.

Of course she didn't listen to him; instead she stepped in and closed the door behind her. "What kind of welcome is that?" She teased in a light tone, attempting to find out exactly what kind of drunk Newt was as she hung her bag on the coat hanger beside Newt's. When Newt didn't reply again, Teresa walked toward him calmly, allowing a short intake of breath to enter her lungs as if that alone were to make the situation a little less tense. "Newt?" She asked again the moment she could stand a few feet away from him, finding him laid down on the couch in front of his television set; which was on, showing some football game. On mute.

"Hello-p" He greeted, lips popping at the very end to emphasize that unnecessary letter, blonde locks wild on his head, as if he'd been pulling at them with all his might. Teresa had _never _seen Newt like this; she'd talked him down from panic attacks, or calmed and distracted him whenever things got to be too much, but _this... _she'd never seen this. It shocked her, to say the least, especially when she noticed him reaching for the almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels she hadn't seen before sitting on the coffee table.

"Newt, maybe you should stop." She worried, electric blue hues shadowing with the frown her brow had just formed. Her hands remained by her sides, but she took a couple of steps close to the blonde boy on the couch.

"I'm fine." He said after a big gulp of the bottle, that had left barely three or four gulps of the size he'd just taken, and a young laugh clearly freed solely in reaction of the intoxication cursing his veins before chanting a long word. "Daaaandy!"

"Newt-" Teresa started, her frown deepening as she took another step toward her friend. But before she could even say any more, Newt's hand lifted to set the bottle back on the table so that he could quickly sit up on the couch.

"I'm _fine._" He repeated, setting his hands on his knees so he could help himself stand up. "I swear!" Even as he stood, the whole of the room danced around him, and his hands lifted in a motion that was supposed to be victorious and showing for Teresa, at his sides; but not too long after, balance seemed to be something he could easily lose, for his hands made little circles in the air that made Teresa smile for a short few moments in mere amusement at the manner in which he looked to have come out of a cartoon before he stumbled back onto the couch on his back with a loud "OOP!" echoing from his lips, that shortly after parted to allow the most carefree and equally tired wave of laughter that she had ever heard Newt allow to leave them.

"Uh huh." Teresa sighed, her lips twisting shortly to the side. "You're just 'dandy'." She repeated the word he'd chanted in a sardonic tone and rolled her eyes before allowing herself to take the last steps toward him that would allow her go sit by Newt's waist. "How much of the bottle have you drunk?"

"Uh..." Newt's lips pursed as one of his eyes squeezed shut, twirling a finger in the air as he pretended to attempt to come up with an actual number for the amount of liquor he'd consumed. "Hell of a bloody lot." He finally said after a little silence, snorting. Teresa sighed again. "I'm fiiiiiiiiiiiine." Newt repeated.

"Stop saying that." Teresa frowned again, reaching for the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels from the table, only to have it be swiped from her hands by a desperate Newt, making her crystal hues widen with surprise as they studied the drunk blonde boy on the couch. Then she watched with horror as Newt drank the last few giant gulps of alcohol in one sitting before lifting half of his frame from the couch so he could rest his weight on one elbow while he threw the now empty bottle to one of the walls of his dorm; making Teresa shrink on her seat and lift her hands to cover her head as if any of the shards of suddenly breaking glass were to fall on her head. "Newt!" She called, almost as if the boy were to not hear her.

Instead of responding, Newt laughed. It was so carefree and light that Teresa almost allowed herself to believe his repeated "I'm fine." Her hands slowly lowered when his words continued, this time in an angry tone. "I'd never bloody hurt you, Teresa, why would you shrink away from me?" His frame slammed back against the couch.

"Not from you." She quickly replied, standing from the couch while she wondered what she could possibly do to help her friend. "You need to stop breaking things or you're going to get the cops called on you." She said, her eyes shifting to look at the mess of a broken bottle and what she could only guess to have been glasses and plates all spread as broken shards near the little kitchenette in the dorm while she walked to try and clean the whole thing.

"Let them come. See if I care." He burped. Making Teresa grimace and attempt to look at him again. Attempt, only because when Teresa's eyes shifted to look in Newt's direction after a few beats, all she could see was the disappearing figure of her friend behind the door of his washroom.

Teresa sighed, her eyes closing for a short second as she heard the agonizing sounds of retching coming from the confines of the washroom. Her eyes shifted open, and as she moved to carefully attempt to clean the glass-filled floor, she worried. She truly had _never_ seen Newt like this; broken, drunk out of his mind, and if she didn't know better she'd even say hopeless.

The next few minutes consisted on the sounds of little clinking noises of the glasses she carefully picked from the floor with a broom and a dustpan and the breaks of silence and retching sounds from the washroom coming from her friend. During all this time Teresa wore a frown; her mind reeling in an out of situations, wonderings and curiosity filled reveries that invaded her mind one by one in unbreakable patterns. All with one subject in common: Newt.

It wasn't until what felt like longer than two whole hours, when Newt ignored Teresa completely to stumble onto his small bedroom, that Teresa thought of trying to talk some sobriety and sense into her beloved friend. Freshly brewed coffee in one hand, and a blanket from the closet where she'd once had been invited to look in the full-length-mirrored reflection what felt like a lifetime ago, in the other, Teresa walked into Newt's bedroom, feeling her frown deepen when she saw him laying curled up on his bed facing away from her, looking like what Teresa could only refer to as an abandoned child.

She walked calmly until she could face him, standing sidways in front of the open window that only let the full moon's light in through thin white curtains before she left the steaming cup of coffee on Newt's little bedside table and extended the blanket in the air until it fell gently to cover Newt's sad looking frame. Sighing again, Teresa moved to make sure the blanket covered him properly before deciding to sit in a cross legged position in front of him, frowning one more time. "Newt?" She asked, watching Newt's unmoving eyes that looked at a spot above her head as if he'd found the most interesting pattern on the wall.

When she called for him, his eyes fell to look at her. Through drunken eyes he watched with adoration the manner in which the light of the moon coming from the window made Teresa's already pale skin almost glisten celestially; her usually electric blue hues looking like crystal domes hiding the darkest of onyx stones within, long lashes touching the porcelain skin of her cheeks once or twice everytime she blinked. She was worried, even drunk he could see that. And he only hated himself the more for, on top of his failures, having done this to his blue eyed angel. "You're beautiful." Croaked and broken voice left his lips with the echo of all his thoughts.

Teresa only frowned slightly deeper, shadowing her orbs that shone in the moonlight. Her hand lifted, and with the kindest of motions her gentle digits pushed back a few intruding locks of blonde hair that threatened to hide Newt's usually brown optics; which under nothing but the moonlight seemed almost black. "You're drunk." She voiced in a tone barely higher than a whisper, caressing his forehead kindly for a few moments while looking into his slightly dilated pupils.

A scoffed breath escaped Newt's nose, one of his hands moving quickly out of the covering blanket to catch Teresa's hand when she moved it away from his face, holding it on the mattress entwined with his own and half hidden under the blanket she'd covered him with. "Yes," he admitted, attempting to clear his throat while a gentle apologetic expression shone in each of his features. "I am drunk, and you're beautiful." He announced, making one of Teresa's brows lift away from the frown into a curious expression. "And tomorrow morning I'll be sober," he paused, taking a slow breath and releasing it just as slowly, "but you'll still be beautiful."

It was the first time Teresa smiled since she'd gotten Minho's call, and a roll of her eyes much to mirror Newt's own finished in shut eyes that slowly opened to see a smiling Newt again. "You stole that from a movie, didn't you?"

Newt chuckled, holding onto Teresa's hand as if it were his lifeline even as he smiled, much like he'd done many times before, and her alike. "The Dreamers," he announced with a nod. "Twenty oh three."

"Should've known." Teresa smirked, attempting to comfort Newt with just the hand he held and her shiny blue orbs. "You're so predictable." Newt chuckled once again, and a silence followed. A silence in which Newt shortly sat up to drink from the coffee Teresa had brought before laying down again. A silence in which shortly after, Teresa genuinely believed her friend to have fallen asleep; one in which she could do nothing but wonder what she could say to help, or worried about him and the scarily broken manner in which she'd found him.

Soft breathing from both friends adorned the otherwise noiseless room; at least until Newt surprised Teresa with his words one more time. "I don't know what I'm going to do." Teresa's eyes shifted to look into his own with the little worried frown to adorn her forehead, orbs alone encouraging him to continue through the short silence, even if he wasn't watching her, but at some random spot under the window as his mind travelled in overdrive. "My mum is going to be so disappointed that I can't graduate this month. Only two days ago she was calling me to say we should make an appointment with the tailor to fit my tux. And now I have to call her to tell her the appointment will have to be postponed for a whole year." He paused, taking in a deep shaky breath that he only released along with a lonely silent tear. "My father spent all my life teaching me failure was not an option, and here I am. Almost two years after his death and throwing all his lessons down the garbage bin."

"Newt-" Teresa started, but Newt interrupted her before she could continue.

"No, Teresa. I failed him, I failed my mother, I failed myself." He said, releasing a couple of more quiet tears to trail sideways towards the bridge of his nose and onto the mattress, making Teresa do nothing but frown and sit there to listen intently to Newt's words while attempting little squeezes of comfort to his own hand. "I don't know what I'm going to do. What will I tell my mum? I'm a failure; I failed. I just... I failed, Teresa, I failed."

"Newt," Teresa muttered, attempting to speak to him through his repeating two words; she lifted her other hand, using it to soothe broken words of self-disappointment that continued to spill from slightly dried lips. "Newt, Newt! Hey... shh." Squeezing his hand and caressing the side of his face with the other, Teresa calmed him, eyes searching his features for any way in which she could free him of such a burden, only when nothing but his silent tears and heavy breaths tooted against the small room's walls, she allowed herself to think; to wonder what words she could possibly speak to comfort her friend. "You're a human being, just like I am." She started slowly, as if she continued to wonder what to say. "You failed two finals,-"

"Three." Newt corrected her, interrupting her words and making her frown deepen shortly. "I failed three finals."

Teresa sighed quietly and nodded. "You failed three finals." She repeated, correcting her facts, but forbidding herself to stop the words she'd been thinking of saying. "It's not the end of the world. What are you going to do?" One of her hands lowered to her lap, but the other remained held to Newt's own while she attempted to look into his eyes. "You're going to retake those classes and you're going to pass them with honors the same way you've been doing for the past three years in all your classes." She stated. "Maybe your mom won't be happy about having to wait a year, but she will see you graduate next year and she will smile just the same as if your graduation was this month. And maybe even more because she might be sitting beside Minho's mom and see you graduate with your best friend the way she's never done before." She paused to smile for a short moment. "You will get help from Alby and Gally if you need it, just like we've been doing because I'm sure we won't stop seeing them even after they graduate. And if you need it, then Minho, Tom and I will help you too; the way you've helped us all. And we will all graduate together, and we'll celebrate, and you're going to make your mom so proud that she will cry for a whole damn day." Newt chuckled, not even surprised to realise that he'd been smiling for the past few beats.

"You are _human._" Teresa repeated urgently after a gentle silence and with an equally gentle smile. "And just like the rest of us you _will_ fail," Newt looked down, but Teresa nudged his hand and forced him to look back at her. "But just like the rest of us you _will_ stand up from that fail stronger than before. Because you _know _what you did wrong, and you can try again until you get it right." She paused, looking straight into Newt's eyes so she could make sure he got her next words. "Yes, you did fail, Newt. But you are _not _a failure. You _never_ will be, because whenever you fail you will stand up and succeed. Every. Single. Time." She breathed, her eyes lost in his, noticing the veil of intoxication being weaker than when she'd walked into his dorm. "Okay?" She asked, squeezing Newt's slightly larger hand with her own.

A silence followed, one in which Newt's eyes danced on Teresa's until he could see their allure even through closed lids. But then he breathed a little loudly, nodding a nearly missed motion before lifting his frame to move backwards on his bed, pulling on Teresa's still held hand with his own until it made her stand up, and continuing to do so until he'd left a space for her to share with him; a space that, as soon as she occupied, Newt helped cover her with the blanket she'd brought him. Once they faced each other laying on Newt's bed, he reached for her hand again, breathed in, out and simply nodded one more time. "Okay." He replied finally, allowing the smallest of smiles to adorn his features.

Even drunk, that was the day Newt realised he loved Teresa Agnes more than any girl he'd ever met.

**To Be continued.**


	10. Chapter 10: Holy Kissing Klunk

The socked feet's steps echoed against the rug again and again as Minho paced the space of Thomas' living room. His hands continued holding the phone as if it alone were a lifeline and Thomas sighed once again. "Minho." He said for what felt like the millionth time, but had actually only been the fourth. But the usually cheerier boy didn't answer him, instead he continued pacing, his eyes lowering to look at the phone in his hands once again regardless if he'd just done so a couple of seconds ago. "Minhoooo." Thomas chanted, and waved his hands around as if that were to call for his date's attention.

"Hm?" Minho hummed and allowed his eyes to flicker toward Thomas' before they flicked to his phone once again. He wasn't sure what worried him more; the manner in which he'd found Newt prior to calling Teresa, or the fact that he felt _had_ decided to call someone else to deal with a preoccupied Newt for fear of encountering the same thing he'd unearthed more than a year ago. The image of the disappearing frame of his best friend down the balcony of his dorm was an image he sometimes still had nightmares about, an image he feared to re-encounter regardless of how well Newt assured him he was doing with his pills and his shrink appointments. Minho hated it, he hated the fact that he'd grown distant from his friend because of his suicide attempt, he hated _himself_ for growing distant, he hated that he hadn't seen Newt for more than a hello down NYIT's hallways for months before he came into the Starbucks with Teresa beside him; and though he allowed himself to feel better because his relationship with Newt had blossomed once again, Minho hated that he had not taken the initiative to reach out to his friend for as long as he had waited, regardless of the many calls and emails and texts his friend had sent _him. _And now Minho felt guiltier than ever, because instead of choosing to be there for Newt the way he _always_ had been, he'd cowered in Thomas' arms and decided to call Teresa to deal with the British blonde boy instead. And Minho. Fucking. _Hated. It_.

"Hey, Minho!" A shake of his arm broke the Asian boy from his frightened reverie, and his pacing stopped when he realised Thomas had been calling his attention for the past few moments, again and again; and for lack of response, he'd stood up from the couch and straightened his frame right before Minho, arms raised to rest on his shoulders as Thomas' concerned amber hues searched his. "Dude, you're scaring me." The unruly haired boy admitted, this time with a gentle shadow upon his eyes due to the frown that had invaded his forehead.

Minho could see the truth in Thomas' features; and because of this, because he couldn't deal with worrying the one person who was keeping him as calm as he dared be, the older boy forced a smile upon his features. "I'm sorry, man, I'm just worried for-" But before he could even finish his words, the guitar riff of his ringtone echoed around the little room. The first thing Minho did was check the time; 10:58pm, and then he swiped his finger across the screen before his ring tone could echo again. He'd seen the smiling picture of the blue eyed girl before he set his phone to his ear. "Teresa?" He asked, making Thomas' arms drop to his sides and big observant hues to follow Minho's frame as if solely by studying him he could hear the other side of the conversation.

"Hey," Teresa whispered, voice echoing shortly in what Minho could only guess to be the washroom. "I thought I should call you to tell you that everything's okay." Minho's eyes closed and the longest of relieved sighs left his suddenly parted lips, felling as if a wave of warmth and calm had just gone right through him in such a way that he almost missed all of Teresa's next words. "...as if you were worried he was going to drown in his own vomit or something. I didn't want you to worry more than you should."

To his surprise, and to Thomas' confusion, Minho chuckled shortly. "Yeah, no, thank you, T. I appreciate it. How is he?" He asked, his frame suddenly feeling heavier, or lighter, forcing a couple of steps to be taken until he could plop into a sitting position on Thomas' couch. Thomas, of course, rose a curious eyebrow at his date and accompanied a roll of his eyes with the quietest sighs he could master before mirroring Minho's actions and sitting as close to him as he dared, in an attempt to hear what Teresa was telling him.

"Asleep." Teresa replied with a rough voice. "I'm going to stay here to keep an eye on him," She paused, "but I wanted to call you so you could stop torturing Tom with your worrying and get back to the date you're supposed to be in." This time Minho actually _heard_ Teresa's knowing smirk in her words. How that was possible, he didn't know, but he could perfectly picture his friend's blue eyes sparkling devilishly with tease and encouragement. Now that he was a little less worried, Minho actually found himself smiling.

"Shut up." He said, throwing Thomas a look that only resulted on the confused boy's narrowed gaze and a _what did she say? _to be whispered from full lips. "Just call me if you need us to run over there and help." He requested, shaking his head in reply to his date and his lips to mouth a _don't worry about it, _in Thomas' direction.

"Mm-hmm!" Teresa replied, the sound of water running and filling up a glass coming from her end of the line. "Don't hold your breath, though, I can take care of us both without your help." She joked, "no monsters will come and get us in the night, Minho, you can relax now." A young chuckle made the Asian boy's eyes roll, only to land on an adorably exasperated Thomas. "Get back to your date, and tell your boyfriend I said hi."

"He's not-" Minho sighed loudly, clearly listening to Teresa laugh in whispers on her end of the line. "Fine, call me if-"

"Yes! I will." Teresa interrupted him in the same tone of whisper than before. "I'm hanging up now, have fun!" And then the line went dead.

Sighing again, and feeling much more relaxed than only a few moments ago, Minho lowered his phone and placed it on the little wooden table by Thomas' couch. "Okay, what was that about?" Thomas' confused eyes searched Minho's features as he relaxed on the couch, and this time his smile wasn't forced; for it reached his eyes.

"It was about me apologising for interrupting our date so rudely." He replied, watching as Thomas blinked away the confusion and rose his brows in wonder and finally a little grin appeared across his lips. "Also, Teresa says hi."

"Oh, thanks." Thomas smiled. "Is Newt okay?" He inquired curiously. "You looked so worried that for a moment I thought you were concerned about more than just his being drunk." The inquisitive boy admitted, reaching for the remote by his side, and only truly realising how closely he was sitting beside Minho when he turned to look back at him and realised he was just inches away from the suddenly smiling boy, and their knees were pressing against each other. He never felt more aware of the his presence than at that very moment.

"Teresa's there, she's staying over and she's going to take care of him," Minho replied, smiling wider when he noticed the blush in his friend's ears and cheeks. "So I'm all yours now. Again, I'm sorry."

"What." Thomas literally stated, blushing only a shade deeper when his eyes moved to look directly at Minho once again; it was as if his smile brought Thomas back from whatever fantasy he'd suddenly been stuck in. "Oh, hey, no, don't apologise." He reassured him. "Newt's my friend too, I was concerned as well." He nodded, and then forced himself to look away so he could turn on the television; using that as an excuse to look away from Minho, because suddenly Thomas was feeling a little hot due to the electric current he strangely felt right at the spot where their knees met, regardless of if they were both wearing jeans or not.

Ever since Minho had asked him out, Thomas had become more and more aware of the attraction they had for one another; touches he hadn't exactly put much attention to before, became more noticeable, suspecting glances from their friends became more prominent, and the manner in which he sometimes simply wanted to reach for Minho's hand - or worse, push him against the nearest wall to press a kiss against his lips-, became less ignorable. Worse because every single time such imaginings invaded his mind Thomas was completely unable to stop looking more like a confused moron if someone spoke to him while he'd been lost in his thoughts, or the blush that followed right after. He blamed the distraction on WICKED U, but everyone could tell he was speaking bullshit; it was simply worse when Minho himself was the one that noticed. Not that Thomas didn't notice Minho still sometimes gazing at him with what Teresa had once called "puppy love eyes", once and again, because he had. And that only made Thomas blush the more.

Well, Thomas' mind had been gone for a moment; and what brought him back to reality made his eyes widen for a second prior to them closing to enjoy every single sensation the contact brought upon every single one of his senses. At some point during Thomas' thought fest, in which he'd decided to look forward toward the television to set it in movie mode so they could get the date going - just as an excuse to not look at the Asian boy who made his thoughts go wild-, that very boy had moved forward whatever little space had been between them, lifted his hand to place it under Thomas' chin and gently tugged his face toward him until his lips were able to crash against the suddenly wide eyed boy's.

The kiss wasn't exactly how Thomas had imagined it; in fact, it was better. It wasn't long after the initial surprise had passed that Thomas was attempting to return the motions; his own hand lifting until it had rested on Minho's cheek, his lips playing with the older boy's and his every sense wrapped around the sensations of little electric currents down his spine and sudden warmth that Minho's tugging on his shirt to pull him closer brought forth.

But then as quickly and unexpectedly as it had started, it stopped. Minho had pulled away. "Wha-" Thomas started, but he had to clear his throat, because he'd been so lost in the motion of the kiss that his voice actually cracked when he attempted to speak. He became aware of his surroundings again; the sounds of the starting menu of The Avengers looping from the TV, the loud honking of cars outside his window, the feeling of Minho's hand slowly lowering from its hold on his shirt so it could rest on the couch by Thomas' leg... "What was that for?" Thomas heard himself asking, wondering where the sudden solid tone of his voice came from, his eyes focusing on Minho's with wonder, confusion and the sudden need for _more. _

Minho's throat cleared, because even though his suddenly satisfied grin refused to show how much the kiss had actually affected him, every fibre of his being was cussing at him for having ended the kiss what felt like _too _quickly. "Because I could tell we were thinking of the same thing." He boldly admitted, shrugging a shoulder in what was only a feigned carefree demeanour. "And I didn't want to wait until you developed the guts to do it yourself, shuckface." He joked, blinking his eyes a few couple of times in order to clear his mind. "I might have grown old over here, waiting."

"Ha, ha." Thomas sardonically laughed, pressing play on the remote so the film would start and abandoning the helpful electronic somewhere beside him. "Fuck you, I have guts." Thomas defended himself, making Minho snort. "I do!" Thomas admitted, looking in the Asian boy's direction with a feigned frown and a smile across his lips. "I didn't want to seem desperate, but I have guts."

Minho laughed, allowing his back to hit the cushiony rest on the sofa before crossing his arms. "Do you, now?" He mocked, eyes with little wrinkles at his sides to accentuate the smile that lifted his lips, only making it that much harder for Thomas not to smile.

"Yes, I do." He quickly replied, attempting to defend whatever playful honour he could, and settling himself on the couch in mirror to Minho, minus the crossed arms.

"Uh huh." Minho mocked again, head shaking shortly. "Then prove it." He challenged. Making Thomas' eyes quickly shift to meet with the smiling boy's features and narrow with short and only joking doubt; but then a smile took over his own features, and in order to prove his date wrong -and of course as an excuse to feel Minho's warm lips against his own again -, he proved it.

And he proved it all night long.

**To Be Continued**


End file.
